#but we’re going to ignore that one for my sanity

[saerins]

°୨୧ INEVICABLY, UNDENIABLY

+ gojo satoru x f!reader | wc 3.3k | content: fluff, modern au, friends to roommates to lovers, timeskip thing; from high school -> adulthood, alcohol, implied sex, children, marriage, gojo is mostly clingy and annoying and we love him for it, the years and age correspond to his actual birthdate, take this as my birthday fic for him <3

summary: despite seemingly having it all, gojo satoru’s goal has always been the same all these years you’ve known him—all he wants in life is you, and only you. during his birthday this year, gojo counts his blessings.

2006; seventeen.

the day you agreed to be satoru’s partner in homeroom class is the day you signed away your sanity. not because satoru’s hard to get along with or that he’s rude or slacks off, but because it’s hard not to fall for a boy with such pretty eyes and even prettier lips who likes to say the most beautiful things.

getting to know satoru is like taking a deep in the clearest, coldest ocean after an entire lifetime of being dipped in molten lava. he’s annoying, refreshing and eye-opening all in one.

satoru shows promise in the first lesson, doing fairly well at cooking and sowing, although afterwards he just falls off because you end up having to teach him how to properly use alcohol in his cooking so he doesn’t burn himself or that you’d end up patching his fingers up since he accidentally pokes himself a lot more than the average human would.

still, it’s not his fault he isn’t naturally talented in the home economics department. he is in sports, you find out, after a few months of being in the same class as him.

“hey, y/n.” he’s leaning back on his chair, depending on its hind two legs for support. it’s become his habit during class to bother you whenever the teachers aren’t in.

you were assigned the seat diagonally behind him, and it’s become a habit for you to ignore him—mostly because most of the time, it’s nonsense that falls out of those lips, especially after you’d gotten close. it’s his sign of affection, you realise.

“hey y/n, i’m being serious this time, i need to talk to you,” satoru whines, pouting and sighing in that over dramatic way that only he can.

that’s also not the first time he’s tricked you into acknowledging him so all you do is look at him, a smile appearing that you failed to suppress, and bring a finger to your lips, signalling for him to hush.

unperturbed, satoru smirks and gets to scribbling on a piece of paper, folding it (annoyingly and quickly) into a swan before handing it to you. he winks at you, and you’re immediately driven not to give him satisfaction by reading it. instead, you bow slightly and stuff it in your pencil case, making satoru pout again and giving yourself the sweet taste of victory.

the rest of your sophomore year in high school, you find yourself growing closer to satoru, an unfamiliar feeling growing inside of you. you find that you like knowing what makes him tick, and even the way he says your name, or even watching him ace every kind of sport and then having him blow a teasing kiss to you after each win.

“y/n, i’m so jealous of you, how’d you manage to get gojo satoru of all people?” one of your classmates whine, swooning endlessly over him.

you only laugh it off, deigning to think too much of it.

it’s weird; he’s most of the schoolgirls’ crushes, but you’ve never considered him to be yours. maybe it’s just a fleeting feeling that will go away with the test of time.

yeah, that should be all that is.

2007; eighteen.

“why not? we’re practically going to the same college.”

with time, you thought that maybe satoru would become a little more sane. like how growing into adults, you slowly shed the ridiculous dreams you had as a child. but he’s not, if not—he’s even more insane.

“we haven’t got the results yet, satoru.”

“i’m pretty sure we’ll get in though.”

“and what’s your basis for that?”

“i’m never wrong about these.”

as always, satoru lives in his own little bubble and you can’t help but to sigh. in his head, both of you will get into that same college you applied for and he has it all planned out: “we get into college, sign up for whatever classes, and then rent an apartment together—genius right?”

that was satoru just moments ago, elbows leaned over the grocery cart as he grins at you, beaming like a dog waiting for their owner’s approval. now he’s still doing the same, except you’ve flicked him on the forehead before turning your attention to the aisles because apparently, he says he hates the food at home and would rather have what you’re cooking.

he’s made it his life mission to invade your meals over the weekend, squeezing himself into your family, bonding with your sibling and your parents and only then did you realise what you forgot in the first place: satoru is one of the most charming people to ever walk the earth. your siblings constantly ask about the next time he’s coming over, and your parents are just waiting for you to announce that he’s your boyfriend—which he’s not, but he sure likes to make it seem that way.

another thing you notice about satoru thanks to your now-weekly grocery runs: he likes to wander around way too much, and complains afterwards when he finds you after losing you.

“y/n!”

it’s like routine by now; the way satoru rushes over to you, putting his arm around your shoulder and sticking his cheek against yours, telling you how he almost died because he thought he lost you—like the drama queen he is. by now, all you can offer him is a ruffle of his hair before you carry on like normal, as though your heart isn’t beating right out of your chest from that simple proximity.

because satoru, despite his generally icy look, is always warm; his body heat, his cheeks, the way he looks into your eyes all the time, even his fingertips when they brush against you.

you think he’s especially warm when he falls asleep beside you after watching a late night movie, his head nuzzled in your neck, hands somehow rested over your own. your favourite thing about the friendship, though, try as you might to deny it, is how satoru’s hands always find yours when he walks you home, fingers lacing around your own as if it’s second nature.

ever since then, these routines have become a staple, and perhaps even does your growing feelings. the inexplicable one.

2008; nineteen.

satoru was right.

both of you did get into the same university, and the same course, with different minors so at least there’s some differences. so of course, satoru did not let the shared apartment idea go. though, of course, thanks to your initial hesitance on the matter, the only available apartment is a 4-bedroom, entirely too big and hence you’d convinced satoru to just rent the other bedrooms out for extra change.

and no, satoru does not need extra change because his family’s loaded (which you realised you didn’t even know before this) but at least this would allow you to not dwell on whatever you’re feeling too much. university is going to be stressful enough without the added consideration of your possible feelings towards satoru.

then enters geto suguru—your new roommate who, thankfully, steals enough of satoru’s attention so you have some breathing room. turns out, they’re like two peas in a pod. but while you and satoru major in business, suguru majors in psych. so that still means satoru’s around just you most of the time.

some routines change; like how movie nights are shared amongst the three of you in the living room instead of just you and satoru in your room. or how during grocery runs satoru still runs up to you when he finds you again except this time, an exasperated suguru is beside you sighing at him, always a “how do you stand this guy?” rolling off his tongue. the most surprising one for you might be how meals include suguru now and satoru’s the one who does the cooking now, and funnily enough, he’s absolutely great at it. no ounce of hesitation as he flips the pancakes, or stirs the fried rice—no whining about how it’s too hard because he’ll get burns on his fingertips and has to ask you to tend to his wounds.

but some change in a different way. they leave no room for someone else, like how satoru always finds your hands to hold on to, keeping you within a reach too close to pass as just friends but both of you refusing to label it anything else anyways. it leaves no room for other people to butt in and whisk either of you away.

and for now, at least, both of you are okay with just that.

2009; twenty.

participating in different activities and clubs inevitably mean that you and satoru wouldn’t be attached at the hip most of the time. and of course, while that leads to satoru becoming even clingier when you’re both home (not that you’re complaining when it’s nice to feel wanted from the very guy you’re completely not having a crush on), both of you are in separate social circles.

satoru occasionally has his friends over, the ones you don’t really know that well. the one where you can only remember names like haibara because he’s extra friendly and yuki because she’s one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen and nori because she’s a mix of the two. you’re nice, and cordial to all of them, although you can’t really say the same for satoru.

occasionally you and suguru invite your friends over, because nicely enough, you both have the same interests. it’s mostly shoko and nanami, a med student and law student respectively, but both of which satoru loves to annoy to no end. lucky for you, shoko is strangely naturally tolerant of his antics and nanami shrugs it off as white noise.

“y/n, surely you’d rather spend time with me rather than that blondie?” satoru always asks, pouting as he looks at you over his shoulder during breakfast—a constant whenever you have plans that involve nanami.

it’s kind of cute.

“mmm, that’s a secret,” you’d always tell him, knowing that satoru’s pouts won’t last all day anyway. it’ll relegate to an excited grin whenever you’re back after that.

you’d never really had to face your feelings, then, until all of you gather one night, before the holidays officially start. you should’ve known that something would be different this time, especially when there’s alcohol involved. naturally, in the circle you sit in, satoru asks people to scoot over, purposely sitting beside you, as close as he can, close enough that your arms and knees practically brush.

it’s just for a simple game of truth or dare, and it’s innocent enough until someone asks nanami and he says truth, and his truth is that out of everyone he knows, he’d most likely date you. beside you, while everyone else is whooping at the declaration, satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance, though he says nothing about it. and you’re not really emphatic about it until someone dares nori to kiss the guy she wants to date the most and she kisses satoru, deep and slow, in front of you, haibara letting slip that she’s had a crush on satoru for a while now.

satoru’s five shots in and tipsy and he was imagining that was you and maybe that’s why it lasted for five seconds before he pulls away.

and when it comes to satoru?

as though noticing his dilemma, suguru gives an amused smile as he states his dare, “kiss the girl you most wanna marry.”

he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you close and kissing you, his alcohol-tainted lips pressing against yours, daring tongue teasingly prying open your lips, chuckling as he feels you kiss him back.

“not most,” satoru corrects right as the both of you pull away, his forehead still pressed against yours and both of your half-lidded pair of eyes still staring at each other.

“what?” you’re almost breathless, forgetting that everyone else is watching.

“the only girl i wanna marry.” and you think he’s never looked more handsome, genuine smile plastered on his face and pretty blue eyes threatening to pull you in.

while everyone moves on, satoru doesn’t—he keeps you there with him, telling you for the first time in four years since he’s known you, “i love you.”

the next week, after you get home for the holidays, the first time being away from satoru in a while, you manage to find your old pencil case, the folded paper swan satoru folded for you all those years ago still inside, somehow forgotten.

curious, you finally open it, finding his message enclosed inside, bringing a smile to your face.

i’m gonna marry you one day.

2010; twenty-one.

dating satoru is like finding a new hobby that you’re effortlessly good at.

despite living under the same roof, instead of finding out the ugly, you find the good in each other. even with suguru in the mix, you all live harmoniously like you have been since the start. except now, satoru likes to sleep in your room, both of you fooling around and occasionally forcing suguru to tell you to pipe down.

satoru is still full of surprises, sometimes pulling up with his car as though both of you don’t sleep under the same roof, telling you that he planned a date and to dress nice. he buys you flowers even if you’re not particularly fancy of them and surprises you by buying things that simply reminded him of you.

dating satoru is like finding out that the right person for you will always think of you and your feelings, no matter the circumstance. the way he makes sure to tell you if he has to hang around nori, or the way he asks if you need anything when he passes by the grocery store alone, or going so far as to memorise your cycle so he knows exactly what to show up back home with.

by the time it’s your one-year anniversary and his birthday comes and you ask him what he wants, all he can answer is “you” and for the first time, you can tell he isn’t trying to be annoying or cheeky or flirty—satoru is surprisingly simple and his answer always has been and somehow always will be just you.

2013; twenty-four.

you still remember the day satoru got down on one knee, his handsome smile even more radiant under the golden hour glow, those still-beautiful blue eyes gleaming even from beneath his bangs.

just an intimate proposal with your closest friends, both shoko and suguru helping to distract you in order to create a successful surprise, while nanami and haibara helped with the decorations and photography.

thanks to them, you’re laughing now, at your wedding reception, looking at all the ways you nearly found them out that day, exactly one year ago, in the form of pictures. and thanks to the best man’s toast, you find out that suguru’s always known about satoru’s feelings, and just how deep his emotions for you ran.

“i won’t forget how much he whined about y/n getting close to nanami. that was probably the one time his whining got so out of control that i wanted to stuff a pillow over his face,” suguru divulges, garnering laughs around the hall, including from you, as your new husband pouts and squeezes your hand.

thanks to that, nanami finds the need to disclose during his speech, “i have never intended to date nor had such thoughts about y/n. my truth during that game of truth or dare was simply the result of a process of elimination—” and haibara cuts him off to give a more fitting speech, fits of laughter all across the room.

that day, you steal glances at satoru, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone who loves you so much and continuously proves so with every passing day.

“satoru?” you call to him softly that night, as you both find yourselves completely bare in the bedroom of your new apartment, one to yourselves.

his piercing blue eyes flick up to meet yours, relishing how it feels like inside of you, every time as though it’s the first. “yeah?” it’s breathy, because he’s about to lose himself.

“i love you, satoru, and only you, forever and ever,” you tell him, finally knowing that in this life, it will always be gojo satoru for you, and that it’s the same for him too.

he only chuckles, pulling you close, “forever me and you, baby, only us.”

2023; present day.

“wow, more than ten years, i think i need to give you a trophy for that, y/n.”

satoru groans, rolling his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

beside him, suguru laughs at shoko’s comment. this time, the six of you find yourselves at a round table in a seafood restaurant during satoru’s birthday, talking about how it’s you and satoru’s tenth year together too.

“i’m not too much, am i?” satoru teasingly asks you, although you only shrug in amusement before drinking your glass of water as an excuse not to answer.

you’ve always been like that, but it’s part of what satoru likes about you. scratch that, he’s loved every part of you since he met you. it’s like it was meant to be; or so he likes to think. there’s an undeniable pull that always lulls him back to you. to satoru, there’s never been question that you’re the only one for him, maybe that’s why it’s so clear-cut.

“you’re just so head over heels for me, huh?” you ask him, a smug grin on your face, the conversational context something he’s missing since he’s been zoning out in his thoughts.

since the first time he saw you, he’s been drawn to you every second of every day. maybe that’s why he did all those stupid stuff like pretending not to be able to cook and ‘accidentally’ burning himself to get you to tend to him, or purposely pricking himself with the needle and asking you to put a plaster over it just to feel you close. even those times at the supermarket when he purposely loses you so he can find you again and see your helpless smile and feel the way you rub his head affectionately afterwards.

maybe it’s stupid too, how he had to silently admit he knows how to cook all too well because he didn’t want suguru to taste your cooking when he first moved in. it was something satoru felt he wanted to himself, something he wanted to keep between him and his future wife. or how a wordless stare between him and suguru during that game of truth or dare was all suguru needed to know that satoru wanted to make you his at that very second, afraid that kiss between him and nori would make you hesitant.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you though, because you know him better than most people do. there were never any pointless arguments or unrecoverable friction.

as they sing happy birthday annoyingly loud like best friends do, chanting for him to make a wish—his hands find yours again as they always did, he can honestly say that there’s no other way he’d rather live his life. you’re made for him and he has you and the little mini yous at home so really, there’s nothing that he has to wish for.

except, maybe, one thing, if he could be selfish.

in this life, and every other life, he’ll want to be with you and only you, forever.

[bbydoll18xx]

Guilty As Sin?

'We've already done it in my head'

Paige Bueckers x reader

I've never written anything, so this could very well be terrible, but I have a teeny tiny crush and it's killing me lol here we go!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: some naughty thoughts, ANGST, friends to lovers aka my fave

....................................................................................................

If there was one thing you had learned throughout your time at uconn, it was that it was pretty fucking difficult being Paige Buecker’s best friend. 

You had met her early in your freshman year when the boisterous blonde was partnered with you in an introductory biology course. You attempted to hold back a groan and an eyeroll as you heard your professor assign the two of you together for an upcoming lab project. You hated group projects, and even more, you could not stand the prospect of not getting a good grade in a class so important for your major. 

Paige, even as a freshman, was extremely popular. Her incessant smirk caused girls to blush under her gaze, and the boys basically broke their necks trying to impress her. She was the type of girl who knew she was hot shit.

Unfortunately, that was your type.

As Paige strolled over to where you were waiting for her, you tried desperately to ignore the uptick of your pulse. ‘Get it together,’ you thought to yourself. Girls like that should have no control over you.

“Hey, I’m Paige. I don’t think we’ve met. I would’ve remembered someone like you,” she murmurs flirtatiously, looking you up and down. Trying to keep the pink out of your cheeks and taking a deep breath, you hold out your hand and introduce yourself. 

That was the beginning of the wildly complex and intimate friendship you would build with Paige.

As a senior in college, you had learned many things: don't drink copious amounts of alcohol without eating some carbs first, avoid getting into ubers alone, do not, under any circumstances, hook up with your TA, and falling in love with your best friend is never good.

It started off innocently enough.

Paige was clingy and affectionate to those she was close with. You, being bisexual and surrounded by mostly straight people before coming to uconn, were hesitant with showing any sort of affection. You had always worried about accidentally giving your girl friends the wrong impression. Paige never cared, though, as she conditioned you into accepting hugs and tentative hand-holding. You grew to crave her warm, longer fingers wrapped around yours or her hand resting on your leg when she’s next to you at dinner or in the car. 

You had realized you were head over heels for her in your sophomore year, and the rest was history.

History you’d very much like to forget.

You were laying on the couch in your apartment. Music filled the room and you basked in the warmth of the sunshine. You rarely have moments of peace anymore, now that school had started back up.

Suddenly, the front door flung open dramatically, allowing several members of uconn’s women’s basketball team to enter as if they owned the place. 

“Hey girlie pop!” screamed KK. “We are going out tonight, and before you say no, you are coming with us.” 

“What happened to bodily autonomy?” You questioned with an eye roll. This happened all the time. Paige and her teammates had made it their personal mission to turn you into an alcoholic.

“Fuck that,” chirped Paige. “You had all week to chill, and I will not stand for that shit for another minute. Party P is comin' out in full force tonight, and I expect the same from yo' ass."

You let your eyes lock with hers. God that shade of blue made you want to drown in it, gasping for sanity as if it was air. 

“C’mon, you always do this. We’re going crazy tonight,” demanded Nika.

Pretending to think about it, you hesitantly agree. You didn’t have any control when it came to Paige. Whatever she wanted from you, she got. You chalked it up to being best friends, but your stupid brain always reminded you of the true source of power.

Paige, Nika, KK, and Azzi all celebrated as you acquiesced, already planning drink orders, outfits, and song requests at the bar they always frequented.

You sighed as Paige sat down next to you. You could handle this. You always did. Focused on anything other than her, you pick at a piece of lint on the soft green couch. Everything seemed to be a distraction from her. The heat of her body sends your pulse racing, just as it did the very first time you met. She really was an enigma.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” she murmurs softly. “Wouldn't be the same if you weren’t there.”

Taking a page out of the Paige playbook, you look her up and down and respond with an “I know.” She momentarily wears a look of shock, before her lips slide into that smirk again, and she laughs. The sound makes you want to run through a field of flowers and then jump from a building.

The pregame was, like always, chaotic, loud, and gave you anxiety. A drunk Paige was a clingy Paige, and you were not sure you could handle the extra touching tonight. One of the bottles of vodka that sat on the counter in the kitchen was beckoning to you, and you decided quickly that the only way you were getting through the night was with copious amounts of alcohol.

As you swallowed with a grimace, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly, the door opened. Paige appeared, rubbing her hands together, looking like she was ready to fuck shit up. Your shit already felt ruined as you gulped at the sight of her. The black crop top she had on made you quickly spin around, shooting another shot in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the hunger that was brewing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there. We don’t need you wasted before we even leave,” Paige taunts teasingly, as she saunters over to you.

With your cheeks pink and inhibitions already lowered, you licked your lips in a manner you could only hope looked seductive and put the bottle into her outstretched hand. For the second time today, a flicker of surprise graced her features. ‘Good,’ you thought. ‘Two can play that game.’ 

As Ted’s was close to the apartments you all were living in, it was decided that a walk would be more efficient than attempting to wrangle the numerous already drunk girls into ubers.

You cherished the warm breeze flowing through your hair, allowing it to briefly sober you up.  Walking alongside Azzi and Caroline, you let out another small sigh, catching their attention. Your feelings were evident to pretty much everyone except Paige, and her teammates often tried to coax you into admitting your feelings to her. 

“Try to have fun tonight. Find someone hot to grind on, and you’ll feel better,” Azzi said unhelpfully. You laughed, but it wasn't a bad idea. “You’re right. I need a distraction. And preferably someone who is not blonde,” You muttered, causing Azzi and Caroline to giggle. 

Paige’s head whipped around at the sound of laughter. She pouted for a second before bounding over to you. She secretly hated the attention you gave her teammates; she wanted you all to herself.

Paige was possessive, as well as mouthy when drunk, which could be a messy combination. But Paige did not care about being messy tonight. She wanted your attention and your attention only. She knew she could very well embarrass herself, but the desperation of needing your attentiveness was far more important. She could handle her anxieties in the morning. 

“There’s my pretty princess,” Paige announces loudly, taking your hand into hers, almost possessively. The pet name wasn’t unfamiliar. Paige called you every name under the sun except the one on your birth certificate, yet the sudden affection caused your heart to lurch dangerously.

You needed a drink.

The bar was already buzzing when you walked in alongside the girls, still being pulled along by the tall blonde. You were fortunate it was dark inside, allowing a sense of privacy to indulge in the intimacy Paige was supplying to you.

She places a hand on your waist, looking down at you. “Imma get you a drink, babe. Stay here with the girls, and do not let any creeps touch you.” You could tell the few drinks she had at the pregame were already getting to her. She was getting more proprietorial.

You nodded, but you wanted to see how far you could push her. You’d do anything for her attention, even if that meant flirting with a boring guy to test her. She was sexy when she was pissed.

You fantasized about the way her jaw clenches when she's angry, as you scoped out for someone to be the target of your favorite unhealthy game. A six-foot blonde with light blue eyes catches your gaze, and you smirk. ‘Game time,’ you think.

With a smoldering look in your eyes, and the alcohol in your veins to keep you feeling confident, you walk up to the guy and introduce yourself. You find out his name was Josh and quickly shift in closer to him, feigning intimacy you would only ever want with Paige. 

It’s not long before you feel Paige slide between you and Josh, creating the distance you wanted since you walked up to him. 

“Paigey!” you exclaim. “This is Josh. He wants to dance with me.”

You see Paige jaw clench in annoyance and she pushes the drink she brought you into your hand before wrapping her now free arm around your waist with her hand splayed against your belly. You shiver at the contact.

“Go away before I make you, bro. She’s mine,” Paige practically barks at Josh. He shrinks away with a weird expression on his face.

You weren’t sad to see him go.

“Thanks for rescuing me, Paigey,” you beam up at her and take a drink. Paige’s eyes never leave your lips as you bite them, looking around the crowded bar. Your lips are pink from the gloss you just applied, and she thinks about how they’d feel against hers. 

Paige would never admit it aloud, but she thinks about you. She thinks about your dimples when you smile at her. She thinks about your laugh. She thinks about how you taste. In her head, they are together. In her head, you are spread out underneath her, begging for her tongue, her fingers, for anything.

Paige is used to people throwing themselves at her, and the idea of rejection, especially from you, makes her shrink back in fear. 

Paige’s eyes are hazy as the dirty Shirley starts to float its way through her veins. She relishes in the feeling of lowered inhibitions and the perfect excuse to get closer to you. Paige pulls you into her to dance. With the alcohol fully in your system, as well, you giggle and seductively dance against her. You can feel the tight muscles of her abs up against you, and you swallow thickly. It's difficult to ignore the way it makes you feel hot and sticky. 

“God, P,” you mumbled against her pale throat. 

“You look so good dancin’ against me, you don’t even know, babe,” Paige replies with her signature smirk.

You could feel the boundaries of your friendship slowly stretching to accommodate the feelings of lust sparking between the two of you.

Between the dancing and the large amounts of alcohol flowing, the night flew by quickly. Soon, you were getting pulled through the door and back out into the chilly Connecticut air with Paige holding you steady. You were a notorious lightweight compared to the girls of the basketball team, and that hadn’t changed tonight. 

“P-paigeyyy,” you whined needily. “Need you,” you pouted up at the blonde. The other girls in your vicinity shared curious looks with each other. You had never acted like this before whilst drunk, and no one really knew how to respond, Paige included. 

“What do ya need from me, princess?” Paige asked with a chuckle.

You motion for her to lean down, and you whisper in her ear, “kisses.” 

“Oh? You wanna kiss me?” Paige questions, feeling all the blood rush to her head.

You nod with a dreamy look on your face. You were going to regret this in the morning, but right now all you could think about was how soft her lips looked and how much you wished you could be hers.

'We've already done it in my head,' you thought drunkenly.

Paige looks down at you with an unrecognizable look, but she presses a soft kiss on your forehead and says, ‘“let's get you home and to bed, doll.” 

As you stumble back into Paige’s apartment and onto her bed, you look up at her and raise your hands over your head, making grabby hands at her. Paige rolls her eyes fondly but helps you get undressed. Walking you into the bathroom, she lifts you up onto the counter effortlessly, helping you take your makeup off and brush your teeth.

It felt so domestic you could cry.

Climbing into bed, your drunk mind prepared itself to sleep next to Paige. It would never feel like enough to you. You wanted all of her. 

Paige lies down behind you, wrapping a long and muscular arm around your waist, caging you in just the way you like it. You are a second away from sleep enveloping you, when you think you hear Paige whisper, “I am so in love with you.”

Your heart stops.

You wake up the next morning with your head pounding. You squint your eyes and look around. Paige is still sleeping next to you. You gently smile as you gaze at her peaceful figure. You wish you could stop time to stay here in this bubble with her. Soon, you’ll go back to being just Paige’s best friend, and the relationship you’ve built up in your head will come crashing back down.

Soon enough, the blonde wakes up, ripping you from your daydreams. She smiles at you, and turns over to completely face your body. “Crazy night, huh,” she alludes slyly.

Your eyebrows crinkle in question. “Did something happen?"

“Uh yeah…you don’t remember what you said to me?” she asks.

You shake your head in confusion, but you start to attempt to recall the events of last night, and all of a sudden it comes back to you. You recall asking her to kiss you, hanging all over her, and the incessant pouting and neediness. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment, and immediately you jump out of bed to leave.

“Wait, don’t go please,” Paige pleads in a way that is startling unlike her.

You ignore her pleas, gathering your stuff and running out of her apartment. Tears burn your eyes as they threaten to slide down your face. You try to stifle your sobs as you climb the stairs two at a time and get to your own door. You throw yourself into your shower as you attempt to drown out your own cries. 

As you sat on the floor of your shower you could not believe how stupid you were. Drunk flirting with your best friend would be the end of your friendship. You could see it already. Paige coming to you, trying to let you down easy. You felt so humiliated.

You sat there until the water got uncomfortably cold, leaving goosebumps against your skin. As you toweled off, you replayed the events of last night in your head for the millionth time. The dancing in the bar, the walk back to Paige’s apartment, her helping you undress. You sigh at the idea of losing her before it all comes crashing back.

“I am so in love with you,” she had whispered into your hair. You still at the memory. Paige loves you? Sure it's common knowledge that you loved and craved her with all of your being, but a love that was requited? It was almost too much to think about. 

You grab your phone that you had left abandoned on the couch and see the messages from the blonde. Messages of regret and longing fill your phone. One more pops up as you scroll, saying ‘I’m coming over. I won’t let you avoid me over this bullshit.’ 

A few moments passed before there was a loud banging on the door to your apartment. You had never felt so appreciative that your roommates had left for the weekend. Your breath grew ragged as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a panting Paige. Her blue eyes looked almost wild as they met yours.

“C’mere, just let me explain,” she says quietly. You weren't used to Paige being quiet and almost solemn. It scared you, just as the thought of confrontation did. This was not a conversation you wanted to have. 

Fighting your own instincts to immediately bolt, you gingerly sit on the couch where she had already made herself comfortable. Some things never change.

“Listen,” she starts out cautiously. “I never want things to be weird between us. I never imagined I would be feeling this way towards someone who was just a friend, but…I think we haven’t been ‘just friends’ in a while.”

You finally allow yourself to meet her gaze, trying to search for any semblance of where this conversation could possibly be going. Surprisingly, she looked hopeful, as if she knew something you did not.

“I-i want you. Like, more than a friend,” Paige stutters out, “And I think you feel the same way. We’ve both been too scared to admit it, but I’m tired of ignoring how you literally make me feel whole.”

You blink back more tears in realization that the last three years of hell of being only Paige Bueckers’ best friend was finally coming to an end. She could finally be all yours and yours only.

Without thinking, you place a hand on her jaw, bringing her to your lips. They meet yours with such hesitancy you almost think you’ve ruined the delicate balance of what you are to each other at the moment. Paige lets out a breathy sigh and pulls you onto her lap. 

You were heavenstruck. 

As the both of you finally pull away from the drug of a kiss, you look at each other and giggle.

“So much for the dramatics, I guess,” laughs Paige. 

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Not my fault,” you pout. “I have no control when it comes to you, P.”

“Same,” grins Paige. “The only thing left to do is figure out how to tell the girls. They’ve all been beggin’ me to tell you ‘bout my lil crush on you.”

“Those bitches knew?” you ask incredulously.

“Well yeah,” Paige says. “I’m not subtle.”

You giggle at how stupid you felt. The signs were there all along, but the fear of rejection and the cloud of lust had obscured any indications of reciprocity. 

“Let’s just start making out the next time we’re in front of them and see how they react,” Paige suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. 

You could hear the whoops and cheers already.

“Deal,” you say blissfully. 

She was finally yours. 

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene I: The Fake Dating)

It doesn’t occur to you how serious the situation has become until you're forced to sign your fake relationship on paper.

Part warning: none, this might be the slowest burn I have ever written Words: 2.4k A/n: The original plan was to update this series twice a week, but I overestimated myself, so I will be posting each Thursday around this time. I hope you understand <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer wasn’t sure how he would go through with this. The idea seemed simple enough on the surface—pretend to date, fool everyone, and finally find peace. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more complex it became, and the more complicated it was, the more crazy it seemed.

This was not what he had signed up for when he joined the BAU. Chasing criminals? Sure. Analyzing behavioral patterns? Absolutely. But pretending to date you to avoid the relentless meddling from his friends? Insane wasn't a strong enough word for it. It was ludicrous.

And even that word wasn’t enough. It was downright preposterous. How had rational, analytical work turned into this bizarre social experiment? Yet, here he was, ready to play his part even when he couldn’t ignore the absurdity of it all.

“Well, well, well.” Spencer looked up to see you walking from the opposite direction, both of you stopping right at the entrance of the bureau’s expansive building. “If it isn’t my new boyfriend.”

He narrowed his eyes. Why did you seem… so normal about this? Weren’t you the one who hated his guts? Weren’t you the one who avoided him every time you had the chance? Were you really that desperate to get the team off your back?

“What? You’re not going to greet your girlfriend?”

He forced a smile, trying to hide his irritation. “Good morning,” he replied curtly, opening the door for you.

You walked past him, and Spencer tried not to stare at you, but it was impossible to ignore the way your hair shone under the morning sun or how your perfume subtly filled the air as you brushed by him. He cleared his throat and followed you inside, wondering how long he could keep up this act without losing his sanity.

“We need some ground rules,” he muttered, nodding towards security as you both passed through the entrance.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ground rules? You mean besides pretending to be madly in love?”

“We are not in love. We just started dating,” Spencer said, pressing the elevator button. “So no spontaneous public displays of affection. We don’t want to overdo it.”

“What’s your definition of overdoing it?”

Spencer waited until the elevator doors slid shut, giving you a little privacy. "No touching. Especially no hand-holding," he stated firmly.

You scoffed. "Who on earth wouldn't want to hold their girlfriend's hand?"

He replied without missing a beat. "Do you know how many germs are transferred when you hold hands? An average of 3,000 bacteria from 150 different species, not to mention the potential viruses.”

“Wow, remind me to never shake hands with you during flu season.”

He shrugged. “I’m just stating the facts.”

“Okay, germaphobe,” you deadpanned, leaning back against the elevator wall. “What’s acceptable then? A nod from across the room? Morse code blinking?”

He considered for a moment, then offered a compromise, “How about an arm around your shoulder when we’re sitting? Or a quick side hug?”

“Side hug,” you echoed, mockingly horrified. “How romantic. Our friends will believe we’re madly in love for sure.”

“We are not in love.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” you replied dryly, standing straight again and turning toward him. “Can we at least try to look like a couple who actually like each other?”

That was the problem. You both didn’t like each other. “Fine,” he sighed. “What do you suggest?”

You paused, considering the best way to make this look believable. “How about you hold onto my waist from behind as we walk? It’s a common gesture, and it looks natural.”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. “Hold your waist? As in, really close?”

“Yes, Reid, that’s generally where the waist is located.”

He frowned at you. “That sounds a bit too… personal, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t that the whole point? To convince them we’re a couple?”

He hesitated, the image of his hands on your waist flashing through his mind. He suddenly imagined the warmth of your body against his, the subtle, pleasant scent of your perfume enveloping him. He could almost feel the way you’d be tucked right to his side, your height fitting perfectly against him, your head nestled just below his chin.

His heart unexpectedly started to race. The idea of holding you that close, feeling the rise and fall of your breath, the slight brush of your hair against his cheek—it was almost too intimate, too real. And he didn’t want to acknowledge that. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to play the role convincingly without his emotions betraying him.

“Reid?”

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been silent for too long. You were watching him impatiently.

“You know what? Do whatever you want.” You turned away, facing the elevator door, clearly frustrated by his hesitation. “Just stand there like a statue for all I care.”

His eyes slowly fell to your waist, considering his options... Maybe it wasn’t that bad. The idea of his hand resting there, guiding you, didn’t seem as unbearable as he initially imagined. The gesture seemed innocent enough. Not too much, not too little. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, apparently. Because it happened all at once.

One, he reached his hand toward you.

Two, the elevator door swung open.

And three, as you started to move forward, his hand managed to slip before it landed onto your ass.

You shrieked at the top of your lungs.

"Reid!" 

Spencer's face turned red as he quickly retrieved his hand, stammering, "I-I'm sorry! That wasn't—"

But he wasn’t fast enough, because standing on the other side of the elevator door was Derek, witnessing the whole thing. His eyebrows shot up, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"What do we have here?” Derek drawled, crossing his arms. "Spencer Reid, getting a little too friendly?"

Spencer's mortification deepened as he tried to explain, "It's not what it looks like, I swear!"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, pretty boy. Whatever you say." He stepped to the side. “Well, aren’t you two lovebirds going to get to work?”

Trying to recover from the embarrassment, Spencer nodded quickly, his face still burning. He guided you out of the elevator with a brief, cautious touch on your back that stayed strictly in the safe zone.

You both hurried toward the glass doors, leaving Derek laughing behind you. You slightly leaned closer to him. “I could sue you for sexual harassment, you know.”

“It was an accident! You moved too quickly.”

“Sure, blame it on me,” you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you pushed through the glass doors ahead of him.

Spencer quickened his pace to keep up, matching your brisk walk. “I am blaming it on you. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t suddenly decided to move forward.”

“Right, because clearly, I should have anticipated your clumsiness.”

He shot you a sideways glance. “My clumsiness? You’re the one who—”

“There you are!”

You both turned to see JJ walking toward you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Hotch is looking for you.”

You started to walk away. “Sure, I’ll go see him—”

JJ shook her head, her smile widening. “No, you don’t understand. He’s looking for you,” she pointed a finger at Spencer, then swung it back to you, “And you. Both of you, together.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “Both of us? Why?"

“Something about filling in paperwork?”

He frowned, but as the implication of Hotch calling you both at the same time for paperwork sank in, he snapped his head toward you, his eyes wide with realization. You turned toward him at the same moment, and the gravity of your seemingly innocent lie spiraled down on him, making the whole situation feel alarmingly real. 

The weight of it pressed on Spencer’s chest. How could he possibly forget about the most important thing in all of this? He had an eidetic memory, he was good at recalling even the smallest details, but how could he not remember the need to officially disclose workplace relationships?

The reality of potentially signing official documents to confirm this fake relationship made his palms sweat.

“This is stupid,” you whispered when JJ finally left the two of you. “Maybe we should think this through.”

Spencer looked down at you. You were right, this was stupid. It was getting out of hand. But as he noticed the way you stared up at him, with your wide, doe-like eyes sparkling under the light, something shifted. This whole lie had started as a means to an end, a way to fend off the relentless teasing. But now, standing there with you, it felt like more than just a plan. Maybe it was the thrill of the unknown, or the strange comfort of the lie. Maybe it wasn’t just about fooling the team.

Maybe he was starting to fool himself too.

Spencer took a deep breath. “No,” he said softly, more to himself than to you. “We started this, we should go through with it.”

Before you could respond, he placed his hand on your lower back, feeling the warmth of your body through the thin fabric of your blouse before his palm slid over to your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture, but you didn't pull away.

What have you done?

You couldn’t believe you had actually signed the papers. The weight of the pen felt so heavy in your hand, the ink seeming to dry slower than usual as you scrawled your name on the dotted line. This was supposed to be a simple, harmless plan, but now it was documented. Official.

How did it come to this?

You watched as Spencer took the pen from you, his hand brushing yours momentarily. He glanced at you before turning his attention back to the document. The hesitation was brief, but you saw it—the flicker of doubt before he pressed the pen on to the paper and signed his name next to yours.

What the hell are we doing?

“Alright,” Hotch said, taking the papers and giving you both a nod. “This is a bit formal, but it’s necessary under bureau policy. If there are any changes in your relationship status, you should report immediately.”

You nodded, barely hearing his words over the pounding of your heart.

“Again, congratulations.”

Your stomach churned. You were going to be sick.

“Thank you,” Spencer responded. Hotch then dismissed you both, and as you turned to leave, Spencer's hand gently touched your back. You were the one who urged him to act his part, but it felt too intimate, too real at that moment. You quickly increased your pace, putting some distance between you as you walked down into the bullpen.

Penelope was sitting on your chair, chatting animatedly with the rest of the team in the open space. She looked up when you both arrived. “Well, look who’s back!” Penelope called out. “How did it go?"

You weren't surprised everyone understood what being called in, together at that, by Hotch implied.

“It went… as expected,” you replied, forcing a smile. Spencer stood a bit awkwardly beside you, his usual composure slightly ruffled.

"This is amazing,” Penelope sighed. "Oh! you know what we should do?"

You eyed her warily. "What?"

"This totally calls for a celebration!"

Your eyes widened. "Let's not—"

"Are you guys free this weekend?" Penelope turned toward the rest of the team.

Derek leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. "You know I'm always up for a party."

Spencer looked between you and the rest of the team, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't think that’s necessary—"

"He's right, Spencer isn't much of a party freak," JJ chimed in, joining in the conversation from her desk. "We should do something more relaxing."

"No, that's not what I meant—"

"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Emily asked, walking closer with a thoughtful look before she settled onto your desk, leaning slightly against it. "We haven't gone to the pool lately."

Penelope perked up at the idea. "Rossi's villa?"

Emily confirmed her with a nod. "Rossi's villa. He’s always saying we should use it more anyway.”

At any given chance, you would jump at the idea. You loved relaxing by the pool. You loved basking under the sun with a cool drink in your hand, the smell of chlorine in the air, and the refreshing splash of water on your skin. And Rossi’s pool was the perfect place for that.

It was a villa located an hour’s drive away that seemed more suited to a resort than a private residence. It was far from the city, mostly unoccupied, but always welcoming. You had been there before, stayed overnight there too, and all those fun memories were still vivid in your mind. You even recalled the time Emily was caught skinny dipping at night. Or the time Derek kicked Spencer out of the pool after realizing he had been hustling him at basketball the week before.

It had been fun then, but the more you reflected on those memories, the deeper your frown became. They had happened way before everything fell apart, before the tension had strained your friendship. It was a time when everything felt simpler, when Spencer was one of your closest friends. And now, ironically, he was your boyfriend.

Fake boyfriend.

"So it's settled, then?" Penelope’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present.

Honestly, you didn’t want to go. How were you even going to pull this off? A weekend by the pool, while usually the perfect highlight for your summer, now felt like walking into a scripted play where your every gesture would be scrutinized. Not just by anyone, but by skilled profilers who could sniff out a lie like a shark smells blood in the water.

The fear of being exposed, of embarrassing yourself—or worse, damaging your career—was gnawing at you. It made you increasingly anxious. Yet backing out wasn’t an option either. It would raise too many questions and invite too much speculation.

So you closed the distance between you and Spencer and linked your arm through his, ignoring the slight panic in his eyes. “Sure,” you said, turning to Penelope as you mustered a smile. “Sounds fun.”

Penelope beamed at you. Spencer, on the other hand, felt the exact opposite. The idea of spending an entire weekend pretending to be in a relationship filled him with dread.

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was bound to go wrong.

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Sixteen

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Summary: Makoto (ew) shows up, and Saiki has to take precautions for his own life to not have more trouble. Luckily, he has (Y/N) to help him.

            Saiki crossed his arms and contemplated throwing Makoto out the window for the hundredth time since he met him. Saiki had been looking forward to this event all week. (Y/N) had finally come over and was going to show him how to properly make coffee jelly at home, but as soon as they’d gotten set up, Makoto Teruhashi had barged his way in crying about how Teruhashi was angry at him (rightfully so, he was being perverted as usual). He had ruined the entire night, and Saiki’s sanity wasn’t certain it could take much more of Makoto’s rambling.

            A single glance at (Y/N)’s weirded-out face confirmed they felt the same way and wanted him gone as soon as possible.

            “So, that’s what happened, and Kokomi hasn’t said a word to me since then,” said Makoto, finally finishing.

            “Go home, you perv,” said Saiki.

            “Please, please, do.” (Y/N) nodded aggressively.

            Unfortunately, Makoto ignored them to wallow in his own sadness and decided to talk some more. “To think we’re having a lover’s quarrel—”

            “You’re really not,” said (Y/N).

            “—I’m in such a pickle,” said Makoto. “Oh, by the way, when I say ‘lovers’ quarrel,’ I mean between Kokomi and me.”

            “We wish you didn’t,” sighed (Y/N).

            “I’m the only one who can have a lovers’ quarrel with Kokomi,” said Makoto.

            “Get to the point so you can get out,” said Saiki.

            Makoto leaned forward. (Y/N) leaned back. “Tomorrow my drama will be filming in my neighborhood. A lot of industry people will be there, too. Once they notice Kokomi’s beauty, that’s it. What do you think will happen if they scout her?!”

            “Don’t care,” said Saiki.

            “She’d be very successful,” said (Y/N), knowing Teruhashi would do very well due to her beauty and people’s love of her.

            “Yes! Right after her debut, she’ll be cast as the heroine in a TV drama,” said Makoto. “She’ll be the heroine in plays and movies. She’ll be in many commercials! She’ll even be stealing work from other popular actresses.” He scoffed. “I won’t allow it! Kokomi has no interest in showbiz. So, I’ll give you permission to tell her to avoid the filming location at all costs. But don’t say anything else, four eyes. Don’t even make eye-contact. You can’t even get within ten meters of her!” Makoto glared at Saiki.

            “That’s unreasonable for anyone,�� said Saiki.

            “Well, I’d prefer to tell her myself, but we’re having a lovers’ quarrel, so don’t screw this up.” Makoto rose and left the room.

            “I don’t usually dislike people, but he really creeps me out,” said (Y/N), shivering.

            “And now he’s gotten me involved,” said Saiki.

            “Hey, don’t worry, I’ll tell Kokomi so you don’t have to be more involved,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “Thank you.” Saiki was so grateful to have (Y/N) in his life. They really were incredible.

l

            “My brother came to see you?” said Teruhashi. “Oh, I’m sorry he caused you trouble.”

            “That’s putting it lightly,” said Saiki.

            “It’s nothing,” lied (Y/N).

            “But, uhm, why is Saiki standing all the way over there?” said Teruhashi.

            (Y/N) looked behind them where, ten meters away, Saiki stood. “Your brother.”

            “What?” said Teruhashi. “Oh, my, I’m so sorry about him.” She smiled sweetly. Stupid big brother! He’s giving Saiki trouble! I have to offer a token of apology. Hmm Ah! She looked up to see (Y/N) and Saiki walking away since they’d given the message. “W-Wait, Saiki, are you free after school today?” That’s right, apology. Saiki, how luck you are to get this opportunity. I have to apologize, so my hands are tied.

            Why aren’t you considering (Y/N)? thought Saiki.

            “Would you like to…go out for some tea on our way home?” said Teruhashi, looking eagerly at Saiki. “Or go to a neighboring town since they’re filming here?”

            (Y/N) felt their heart drop since this was so much like a date, and no other guy in school would even think about saying no. They hoped Saiki would, though. It would hurt if Saiki wanted to date Teruhashi and not them. It really would.

            I’ll treat you for a date! Now feel honored! Even though this is only as a token of apology. Teruhashi glanced at (Y/N). And (Y/N), although I like you, you get a lot of attention from Saiki, and it’s my turn as the perfect pretty girl. Now, come on, and say “oh, wow.”

            Saiki, about to say no, paused and decided to say something else that would create problems for him, but it would make a point to Teruhashi about her thoughts about (Y/N)—that was one thing he didn’t let slide.

            “(Y/N) and I are free this afternoon. We’ll accept your apology.” Saiki turned and walked away.

            Teruhashi’s jaw nearly dropped open as Saiki, seemingly (and actually) unperturbed, invited someone else out with him and her when she had given him the chance to be alone with her.

            (Y/N) found themself grinning. “See you later, Kokomi!”

            “Right, yeah.” Teruhashi raised a hand, still in shock. But he should’ve said, “oh wow…”

            “Didn’t want to be alone with her?” asked (Y/N) teasingly.

            “If I said no, her followers would’ve hated me. I don’t want that attention,” said Saiki. And, in a more truthful sense, the rudeness would hopefully make Teruhashi stop liking him as much (which, apparently, he’d have to try some more). Also, Saiki got more time with (Y/N). He didn’t mind that.

l

            After school, Teruhashi, Saiki, and (Y/N) ended up at the next town over. Unfortunately for Saiki, attention was coming to their group as everyone watched the perfect pretty girl grace their streets with her mere presence. Additionally, Saiki was dealing with Teruhashi’s fantasies of him saying “Oh, wow” and how she believed he was totally in love with her and freaking out about the chance to be close to her.

            Luckily, Saiki had (Y/N) walking alongside him, and Saiki could put up with a lot to spend time with them.

            “What’s that guy near her doing?” whispered one guy.

            “I bet he’s her funding source,” sneered another.

            “I wanna punch him from behind,” said a third.

            I don’t want to deal with that, though, thought Saiki.

            “Kusuo, Kokomi, do you like sweets?” said (Y/N), saving the day (in Saiki’s mind) yet again. “I saw an ad for a café nearby that looks super good.”

            I’ll have some cake with (Y/N) before leaving.

l

            Closed. The café’s sign was turned around to say it was closed.

            (Y/N) sighed, disappointed. “I really thought it would be open. Sorry, Kusuo, Kokomi.” They really were sorry. They wanted to have a nice time with Saiki (and Teruhashi), but it hadn’t worked out.

            “Well, we can always go over to the shopping district,” suggested Teruhashi, eager to try to get some of her own ideas in to impress Saiki. “We came all this way. Let’s find some good new places. Let’s go!”

            Unfortunately for Teruhashi, an hour of walking at her direction passed, but they found zero restaurants. Teruhashi’s glowing smile had fallen into a sickly attempt at one due to exhaustion. (Y/N) was feeling peckish, and Saiki was also losing interest in continuing to follow Teruhashi. That being said, it was fairly fascinating to see everything not work out for Teruhashi.

            “E-Excuse me.” A boy nervously stepped forward and blushed. “May I help you with something?”

            “We’re looking for a place to get some tea,” said Teruhashi sweetly, her glow returning.

            “O-Oh, yeah, sure!” said the boy excitedly.

            “Hey, I saw her first!” shouted another.

            “I’ll show you the way,” offered another from the crowd.

            Never mind. Everything worked out for her.

            “The sun is harsh today. Please borrow this parasol,” offered a man.

            “Here’s a coupon to the café,” said the first boy again. “I’ll go ahead and reserve a table for you.”

            “Wow, thank you,” said Teruhashi, smiling.

            “Oh, wow!” said the entire crowd.

            “It’s amazing how everything works out for her,” said (Y/N). They laughed. “I need some of that charisma.”

            “I think you’re fine the way you are,” said Saiki. Besides, he’d watch out for them. As long as he was around, they’d be alright.

l

            At the café, Teruhashi continued to be surrounded by other men while (Y/N) and Saiki sat across from her eating cake and drinking tea. She was satisfied, though, for now, since she had a whole group of people going “oh, wow!”

            Saiki made me totally forget it, but now I remember. I’m a perfect pretty girl! Having recharged her confidence, she turned back towards (Y/N) and Saiki, eager for more “oh, wows.”

            Yare yare. Teruhashi really is tough. I’ll just get through this and hurry home with (Y/N). I wonder if they’re done filming.

            (Y/N) sighed happily as they finished their tea. This is nice. I’ll have to come back here at some point when there aren’t as many people crowded around. And I should bring Kusuo.

            Saiki straightened as he heard Makoto and his director thinking about how they were changing location. They’re coming this way?! He took another bite of his cupcake. I should really do something soon. He took his time savoring the sweets.

            “These were delicious, weren’t they, Saiki, (Y/N),” said Teruhashi.

            “Yeah, they were super good,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            We took our time, but this town is big. Hopefully we won’t run into him.

            Nothing worked out for Saiki, though, and due to the ground, Makoto and his assistant decided to stop at that café.

            Saiki stood. We better leave quickly.

            “Are you ready to go, Kusuo?” said (Y/N).

            Saiki stared at them and then out the window. (Y/N) observational skills paid off, and they saw the blue hair of Makoto Teruhashi in the van outside.

            “You’re right, it’s time to go,” said (Y/N), standing. “We finished everything, after all.”

            “Can we wait a bit?” said Teruhashi. “They want me to shake hands with them, so…” She smiled and let the line form, focusing on being the perfect pretty girl.

            “Kusuo, what do we do?” whispered (Y/N).

            “I’ll flip the sign.” His psychokinesis flipped the open sign to closed.

            They tensed, but the two men walked back to their van instead of walking in.

            “We did it,” said (Y/N).

            “We should still probably leave in case they return,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) nodded vigorously. “Good idea.”

            “6,850 yen, please,” said a waiter.

            “Oh, I’m paying!” said Teruhashi, smiling and walking over. “How much is it?”

            “Oh, you are? Two hundred yen, I guess,” said the waiter, blushing.

            “Oh, that cheap? And I have coupons,” said Teruhashi happily.

            “Then it’s twenty yen,” said the waiter.

            “I hope I get reborn as a pretty girl in my next life,” said Saiki.

            “I think you’re fine the way you are,” teased (Y/N), smiling at Saiki.

l

            “I wonder if they’re done filming,” wondered Teruhashi. “But Saiki, (Y/N), what do you think?”

            “We’ll go straight home,” said Saiki.

            To support him—since (Y/N) knew at this point Saiki wanted to really go home, so they wouldn’t push his boundaries—(Y/N) nodded. “I should probably get my homework done sooner rather than later.”

            Saiki paused, his clairvoyance showing him that the film crew was at the train station. He nearly sighed. It appeared they’d be stuck here a while longer.

            Teruhashi perked up, deciding that Saiki must be fighting with his own insecurity about hanging out with her.

            (Y/N) tilted their head, understanding they were facing another obstacle.

            “Hey, if you’re not in a rush, you and I could hang out some more, Saiki,” said Teruhashi. She smiled. “Even if (Y/N) heads home, you don’t have to go.”

            “Well, Kusuo and I were going to do homework together, so I guess I have to wait,” said (Y/N).

            Teruhashi deflated slightly. I thought I’d get some alone time with Saiki. It’s almost as if (Y/N) knows to stick around.

            They are good at covering for me. Saiki liked that—yet another characteristic in a long list that he liked about them.

            “Oh, look, I haven’t been to a place like that for a long time!” said Teruhashi as she led them to an entertainment arcade. “There are so many choices!”

            This might actually be a fortunate turn of events in terms of making Teruhashi hate me, thought Saiki.

            “A karaoke place, so cool!” said Teruhashi, trying to hint to Saiki. I don’t feel like bowling. I wanna go karaoke.

            With that, it was decided.

l

            “Another split? I have no luck today,” laughed (Y/N) as they, once again, had a terrible turn in bowling.

            Since Teruhashi didn’t want to, Saiki had absolutely wanted to. This would help get her to lose interest in him.

            “Strike!” announced the computer screen after Saiki went.

            Teruhashi deflated.

            The entire game, Saiki made sure to humiliate (Y/N) and Teruhashi with his “skill” (psychic power). That way, Teruhashi would really lose her feelings for him. It was a little mean, but Saiki was eager to have her stop chasing him around. It caused him trouble. At least (Y/N) wasn’t embarrassed and just laughed at their own lack of bowling ability.

            Still, Teruhashi wasn’t done yet, but Saiki was up to every challenge.

            When she saw a claw machine with a gorillabbit, he instead won the strawberry stuffed animal and handed it to (Y/N). They turned red and fought to thank him normally, trying to rationalize that Saiki was just trying to frustrate Teruhashi. (Obviously he did it just to annoy Teruhashi, not because he saw them looking at it earlier and thought they’d like it). Teruhashi deflated once more.

            When she challenged Saiki to table tennis, he beat her terribly. History repeated itself in darts and video games. Soon, Teruhashi was just sitting on a bench with a blank look on her face, disinterested and disappointed in everything.

            Maybe we went a little far. “Is she going to be okay?” said (Y/N), looking at her faraway stare.

            “She’ll rebound once someone says ‘oh, wow’ to her,” said Saiki.

            “Let’s head home,” sighed Teruhashi.

            “Good idea,” said Saiki.

            “It is getting late,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m exhausted,” sighed a voice behind them on the bench facing the other direction.

            (Y/N) and Saiki’s eyes widened, and they whirled.

            It was Makoto and part of his team. Because of all the people, Saiki hadn’t differentiated Makoto’s thoughts from anyone else’s, and now they were right there near them and Teruhashi.

            “Four eyes?” said Makoto, blinking. “Other one?”

            I don’t even get a name?

            “Kokomi?!” cried Makoto, seeing his sister walking away. His surprised gaze turned to anger as he assumed Saiki was on a date with Teruhashi (which was bizarre since (Y/N) was also there, but Makoto doesn’t have a good head on his shoulders).

            “What’s wrong?” asked his assistant, walking over.

            “We have to go,” said Saiki, standing and grabbing (Y/N)’s hand. He pulled them behind him, and they followed quickly.

            “Hey, Kokomi, come on!” said (Y/N) brightly, and when she looked confused, Saiki made a drastic move and dragged her along by the hand.

            “They held her hand! Get those two!” shouted Makoto, and his people looked around wildly to try to spot them.

            I thought he didn’t want her to get attention! thought (Y/N) as Saiki pushed Teruhashi into a photo booth.

            “Hey, what—” The flash went off, and Teruhashi blinked before looking back at Saiki. In the haze of light, she drew her hand back. Oh, my! How dare he take my hand and push me into a photo booth. He wants photos of me that badly?! So selfish. And yet…why am I this excited? To know he was willing to be so confident, so forward…wow.

            Saiki nearly stared in astonishment as Teruhashi went back to liking him even more, but he just retreated to another photo booth to avoid the search party Makoto had instigated. He and (Y/N) stood silently as the men ran past and the photos flashed in the other booth to keep Teruhashi distracted (and, now, invested in her fantasy that Saiki wanted something to remember her by).

            Saiki sighed. “Yare yare. She likes me even more now.”

            “I’m sorry, Saiki,” said (Y/N), giving him a half-hearted smile. “But she does seem to really like you.” And although I think I like you for other reasons and am more aware of it, I can understand.

            “I should have let you take her hand,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “Everyone makes a mistake.” They smiled and lifted their hands, still holding each other. “And my hand was already taken.” They spoke teasingly, but there was a warmth that, if Saiki knew their thoughts, he’d see as affection above that of friendship.

            Saiki looked down at their hands and contemplated it for a moment. Although he was not one for physical touch, he’d initiated this, and now that he was holding (Y/N)’s hand, he found he didn’t want to let go. They were warm, and it was comfortable. Just like talking with them or spending time with them, it felt natural to be this close to (Y/N).

            “Do you want to take a photo?” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) brightened and looked at him. “How did you know I wanted to?” They knew he couldn’t read their mind with their germandium earrings on (which they would never take off).

            He didn’t. He just knew that he suddenly wanted to capture this moment, to remember how nice it was to be with (Y/N), the person he had a crush on. “You mentioned you like having photographs to remember moments to Yumehara while we were Okinawa on the beach.” And I hope you had fun with me, even if I was focused on getting Teruhashi to stop liking me.

            (Y/N) smiled. “I’d love to, Kusuo.”

            Saiki really liked hearing the word love and his name in the same sentence when it came from (Y/N).

l

            Saiki looked at the photobooth pictures in his hand in his room. Carefully, he placed it on his desk, leaning against his plant, so he could see it clearly. He sat quietly and looked at it with a now-familiar warmth glowing in his chest.

            Three photos stared back at him.

            One had Saiki looking emotionless as usual while (Y/N) beamed and raised their hands—still entwined—like a superhero in the air.

            The second had (Y/N) making half a heart with their pointer and middle finger while Saiki looked at it.

            The third has Saiki completing the heart, still no expression, but his gaze was firmly on (Y/N)’s joyful face.

            As he looked at the pictures, Saiki smiled.

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

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@drowningfishy

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@izzieg3987

[bcyhoods]

LOVEFOOL 💌 ─── send in a character and a prompt from these lists for a blurb

peter parker + ❛ is that blood? is it yours? ❜

she’s been collecting dust because i’m insecure, but she will stay hidden no longer!! | 1.4k

warnings: blood, injury, r patching up his wounds, medically inaccurate information (we’re going to pretend it works for my sanity’s sake)

Peter doesn’t really know why he stumbles into the bodega. It’s closed, and it’s empty, safe for where you’re mopping the floors.

You move between the aisles, mouthing the lyrics to whatever song is flowing through your earbuds. He watches your silhouette through the windows, entranced as you make the most mundane chore somehow look so inviting. He knows the moment you see his face that you’d drop everything and throw your arms around him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.

He supposes that’s why.

That, and the searing pain that shoots through his left leg is making his brain foggy.

Gripping onto his wounded thigh, he musters up the remainder of his strength to pull open the door and stagger inside. He grimaces at the shrill chime of the overhead bell. Even more so when it disrupts your bubble of peace.

“Sorry, we’re…” The rest of the monotonous statement gets caught in your throat. You stare back in his direction with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. The mop slips from your grip and bangs onto the floor.

Peter, clueless and delirious, is convinced it’s because he’s starting to stain the freshly clean linoleum. You’d just mopped and now he’s making a mess. He’s oddly expecting you to scold him before coddling him. Maybe you’ll even give him a kiss. His shoulders momentarily sag in relief.

“Spiderman?”

Shit. He’s still wearing the suit. He forgot.

“Yeah, hey,” he sings nervously, “Nice to meet you. Great establishment you’ve got here, you should be very proud.” He gestures toward the apple display before giving you a puny thumbs up.

You’re stunned, frozen in place. You don’t really notice the way his arm falls limp or the way he uses the nearby shelves as a crutch. You can’t even see the blood dripping down his leg from where you’re standing. Your mind is racing and jumbled because The Spiderman is in your store on a random Tuesday night.

Peter is never going to believe you when you tell him.

You’re abruptly ripped from your daze when he knocks over a can of tomato sauce, cursing under his breath. “Yeah…you’re here. Why are you here? And I don’t mean to kick you out, y’know, protector of the city and all—”

He laughs quietly at the wonder in your voice. He tries to take in your amazement, making note of the raised brows and the shy smile on your face, but he really can’t. His head feels heavy on his shoulders and the overhead lights are killer, even with the mask on. All he wants is for you to hold him, but he’s not Peter right now. And somehow that makes his leg sting even more.

He’s so out of it, he hasn’t even registered that you’d moved closer to him until he hears you gasp. Your expression is different now. You look mortified.

“Oh my god, is that blood?” When he jumps, you continue quieter, “Is it yours?”

“Huh? No, no, it’s not, it’s just uh…”

He utilizes the shelf to limp closer to you, but one uncoordinated shift of the hand makes his knees buckle and it sends him to the floor with a groan. A yelp involuntarily escapes as you rush to his side.

“It might be a little, yeah,” he admits defeatedly through clenched teeth.

“Here, let me help.”

He tries to protest, but ultimately surrenders to your fleeting touch as you push at his shoulders to lean up against the wall of freezers. You kneel in between his legs, ignoring the way heat rushes to your ears when he gently holds onto your forearm. It was so instinctive, so tender, like he’d done it a million times before.

Your fingers hover over the tear in his suit before you’re asking, “May I…?”

He nods. Careful of the wound, you pull and rip at the material to expose the severity of it. He makes a sound of ease, one that you’ve mistaken for worry and it shoots right to your chest.

Peter concludes it looks worse than it actually is. It’s definitely not deep enough to require stitches, but the cut crosses the expanse of his thigh. He’s fixed up worse in his dingy apartment bathroom. It’s not entirely unfamiliar, but he’s lost a lot of blood on the way here.

“Just a paper cut,” he adds cheekily to make you feel better. It doesn’t, really. When he notices the way you stare at the wound and how your hands shake with worry, he reaches to hold them. “Hey, I’m okay. Happens all the time,” he assures softly.

The frown you wear looks entirely foreign. It makes his insides burn and all he wants to do is kiss it away. To make you smile at him again like you’d done so earlier.

“A lot of people don’t really like me that much,” he says. He’s barely coherent, the words are slurred together at this point. But he doesn’t really care when he hears you scoff. It’s good enough, he decides.

“Okay. Just…just wait here.” You’re gone before Peter can grumble some smart remark about how he couldn’t go anywhere even if he wanted to.

When you reappear, your arms are full with soaking wet wash rags, a box of wound cushions, and a cheap spool of gauze. His arm is lazily thrown over his head to provide some sort of shelter from the bright lights. The bleeding has slowed down just the slightest, but it doesn’t instill much confidence.

A timid exhale is pushed from your lungs and you warn, “I don’t really know what I’m doing. It might hurt.”

“Nothing I can’t hand—oh, mmm!”

You’re immediately pulling away, the rag in your hand tinged with crimson.

“It’s okay,” he’s quick to reassure you before you can even apologize. It comes out strangled. He’s sitting up straighter, his muscles are tense, his fists are clenched beside him, but he keeps whispering it like a mantra. You’re not sure if he’s saying it for you or for himself. Maybe both.

“It’s okay,” you repeat softly. He hums.

The mumbled phrase spills over your lips every time he flinches away from your touch. It spills over his lips whenever your brows pinch in response. It echoes through the store until the beige cloth becomes red and you’re wrapping the gauze around his thigh.

He selfishly wishes you knew his secret just so you could patch him up from now on. You’re so gentle, you’re doing a much better job than he usually does. It helps that even the thought of having you around makes every worry melt away.

You’re tying off the wound and smiling to yourself with a sense of accomplishment. It’s infectious, it has Peter smiling under his mask. “Done!” Clearing your throat, you stand up and reach your arms down in an offer to pull him up with you. “You need to learn to stop getting on people’s bad side, Spiderman,” you jest.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Taking your hands, he’s staggering up and once he’s settled, puts his hands on his hips. “I think some people are just too sensitive,” he argues.

He feels miles better now, but you’re beaming at him and it makes his brain feel all fuzzy all over again. You bend down to grab the leftover materials and stick them out towards him. “For your leg. On the house.”

“Thank you,” he replies simply. He takes them from your hands, with a smirk hidden away from you. It’s such a measly offering. The box of dressings is practically empty, the gauze is tiny and already unraveling in his hands. But he’s feeling an electric current rush through his limbs and spark a fire in his chest all the same.

“Yeah…” As if a lightbulb ticks on over your head, your eyes brighten and your smile is wider, if that was even possible. “While you’re here,” you start, turning away from him and towards the counter to retrieve your phone. “My friend Peter, he um…he’s never gonna believe me, but I wanted to know if—”

The sound of the overhead bell makes you whip your head back around to see the bodega is completely empty. No evidence of any wounded superhero barging in after hours besides the bloodied floor. Before you can feel dejected, the reality settles in once more.

You just saved The Spiderman from bleeding out in your store on a random Tuesday night.

Peter is never going to believe you when you tell him.

[thedeviltohisangel]

For A Fortnight There We Were: He Got My Heartbeat

a/n: EV AND CAL ARE BACK! the response to the first one shot of this was so crazy and became so popular and I could have never imagined! this takes place back on the MOTA set when they start to wonder if they really are started to feel tingly for each other or if the characters are bleeding into their lives. please shoot me any requests for future one shots or blurbs since I love being able to fill in all the little blanks for you guys. standing by to chat about these two (or callum in general lbr) and am thinking of add austin x popstar!oc to this universe? idk, let me know your thoughts. love you all and see you on the flip side...

She heard the sound of the director cutting and ignored it anyway. He did too. Evelyn used the arm around his neck to pull him closer and prevent his lips from slipping off of hers. Her hips shifted forward on their own accord and she felt something twitch between her legs. 

“Jesus, fuck-Ev, I’m sorry-”

“-oh, God, it’s my fault-” She fell backwards off the chaise as she hurried to scramble out of his lap. 

“No, Evelyn, don’t, it’s fine!” Callum was racing to grab the abandoned bed sheet from the ground as she was struggling to conceal her chest from the production crew. “Can someone get her a fucking robe?” he yelled as he was finally able to wrap her in the polyester. 

“Please don’t touch me.” Her shoulder shrugged quickly to rid his hand from her skin. Her lips were still burning from his kisses. Her nose on fire from where it had nuzzled with his. Her chin and waist aching for the feel of his hands again. She doesn’t think she would be able to hold onto her sanity if his hands were on her ever again. 

“I’m sorry.” He held his hands up in surrender as a PA emerged with a fluffy white bathrobe for her to tuck her arms into. Not a glance from her was spared his direction as she stood and hurried off the set. 

Callum hung his head between his legs as they offered him a robe but he had no motivation to grab it. He was only able to think how stupid he was. How silly it was to let himself get lost in the sensation of kissing her and touching her and making love to her. It was all acting and for the camera and none of it was real but it had felt so tangible. Like even after she pulled away he could still reach out and grab it and keep it and never let it go. But he had fucking ruined it because he wasn’t able to control his arousal for her. 

“Falling in love with your co-star…not always the best choice. Especially when they happen to be married.” He scoffed at Tom’s words as he sat next to him, pulled on the robe to protect his modesty in front of one of his heroes.

“I’m not in love with her,” he mumbled around the lump in his throat. “We’re just friends.” The hotel room set was quiet now. Tom had cleared it out as he watched the two young actors fall apart right in front of him. The intimacy had been a step too close to what they really craved to maintain any sense of stability. 

“I see,” he responded with a nod. They had said cut nearly five whole minutes before the two of them had even thought to stop. The intimacy coordinator had watched the scene playout with a perplexed look as none of the choreography had been followed, they had just kissed and groaned and moved their hips the way that had felt right and normal and it had worked perfectly. It had felt like they had been doing it forever. Like they were meant to. “Sometimes, lines get blurred on projects. It’s okay to admit that to each other.”

“And, hypothetically, how would one tell if the lines between the characters and the actors are blurring or if the feelings are real regardless of the character?”

“Hypothetically?”

“Completely.”

“You talk to each other.” Callum chuckled. Sometimes the simplest answer was the correct one. 

“She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk to me.” The look on her face when he had tried to reach out and comfort her would haunt him. The rejection slapping across his face like a biting cold wind. The way he had bared his soul just an inch to try and connect to her and protect her and she turned him away easily.

“Give her time. Everything you are feeling is amplified for her. A few more complications.” Evelyn was in the middle of a very public legal fight. There were houses and cars and a plane to divide and assign value to and storage units of furniture and designer clothing. Businesses they had invested in together and land they had purchased to build a life on.

“Maybe it’s not worth it. Maybe I let sleeping dogs lie.” Callum had already watched the way phone calls with her lawyers and emails from her manager and texts from her ex took a toll on her day in and day out. It would be unfair of him to add one more burden to her shoulders. 

“Or maybe you don’t and it turns out to be the best decision of your life, Callum.” Maybe it was the start of a fairytale. Maybe it was the love that they both were meant to have in their life. Maybe it was the kind of love that could soothe the ache in their chest and fill the hole in their heart and mend the cracks in their souls. 

Maybe it was exactly what they both needed.

----

The binder of her lines for the next day of shooting was sitting in her lap as her hairstylist brushed out her 1940s era curls but they just looked like blurry letters on the page. All she could think about was the look on Callum’s face when she had recoiled from his touch. She thinks he looked genuinely hurt. Like she was rejecting a vulnerable piece of him that he had offered. 

“Is it a bad idea to go apologize to him?” she asked the trailer full of people. They had all been quiet from the moment she entered and had been waiting for her to talk first. “Like, do I just leave it be or do I go say something?” 

“Are you just saying sorry or are you trying to talk about why it went down like that?” her assistant asked. Evelyn chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about, leaning back in her chair and shoving the binder onto the vanity. 

“It’s only going to get more awkward if we don’t do the latter.” With a sigh, she grabbed her water bottle and got down from the chair. “I’m going to put on something comfy then go see if he’s in his trailer. Can someone practice with me on how to not say that I’m confusing the characters relationship and emotions for real life?”

“Or you just be honest that maybe all your feelings are real life. He’s giving it right back, Ev, we’ve all seen it.” 

“And then what happens? I ask him to twiddle his fucking thumbs while Logan drags me through court for the rest of my life?” She tucked her feet into a pair of UGGs and grabbed her phone from where it was charging. “No matter if anything is going on between Cal and I, he deserves better than what I have to offer him or anyone right now.” There was no reason to drag someone she cared about as much as him into this mess. No reason to ruin whatever relationship they currently had if she didn’t have to. Evelyn had gotten used to seeing him and Golo at the end of every day and running lines and laughing while taking a smoke break when they all got food delivered and hung out as a group. He was always sending her some funny video saying it reminded him of her and teasing her about how his mustache tickled her when they kissed and she was happy around him in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. 

“Ev? Did you hear what Tracy said?” 

“No, I was-” She stopped when they were all smiling at her like they knew all her secrets. “Whatever. None of you are helping. I’ll just fucking wing it and see you later.” Evelyn took a few deep breaths of fresh air and walked to the trailer in question only a few yards away, Golo popping his head into the window and barking once when he noticed her arrival. 

“My Evelyn door bell was ringing.” Callum opened the door before she had the chance to knock and her momentary freeze was interrupted by the dog that was eager for her attention. 

“Hi, baby,” she cooed as she squatted to scratch at his ears and laugh around his kisses. “It’s only been a couple days, Golo!” 

“He told me you give the best belly scratches and he wants them everyday,” Callum said as he leaned his back against the doorway. “You want to come in or you just swung by to see this one?” She stood up and pulled her sweatshirt down to cover her exposed skin.

“I wanted to talk about earlier. Unless now isn’t a good time or unless you didn’t want to talk about it all.” He paused for a beat as he thought about the two options she had just presented. One offered an understanding of whatever it was that was palpable between them. There would be no more guessing. But there was the trap. Because if the answer was that the lines had just blurred. That the tension was based in the characters and only existed on set, then he would rather not know. He would rather float through the turmoil of not knowing because at least his heart had a chance at remaining whole.

“No, we can talk about it.” Callum opened the door wider and stepped to the side as she and his dog crossed the threshold. “You want a bottle of water? Something else?” 

“Just water is fine.” Evelyn sat in a chair and wiped her sweaty palms on the top of her thighs. He handed her a bottle of water and leaned against the wall opposite. “I, uh, I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, I know it was just an accident. And it was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have deviated from what we discussed with the intimacy coordinator. That is what they are here for and it was inappropriate of me to…do what I did.” Kiss him like it was real. Move her hips in the hopes she would catch some friction between her legs. Observe the look on his face as he had acted out his orgasm. She had never found the way Logan looked when he came particularly mesmerizing. But that’s how she would describe the feeling of looking at Callum.

“Takes two to tango. Nothing to apologize for.” He looked down at his feet and Evelyn sat, waiting for him to say something more. Something further. Anything. 

“Ok. Yeah, ok. I’ll get out of here.” She stood and stared at him for a beat but he seemed incapable of looking at her. She probably disgusted him. Just wanted her to promise to never do it again so he could move on with his life and his career. And the quicker she left, the quicker she could go to her rental flat and cry in the shower with a bottle of white wine. 

Her right hand was around the doorknob when his hand encircled her left wrist. She paused.

“It’s not just the characters bleeding into my thoughts and actions,” he whispered as her eyes closed and her forehead rested against the door. “My feelings for you are as real they fucking get.”

“Callum…”

“I know. I know. Tell me to get over it and I will, Ev. Tell me you only view me as a friend and I will work every goddamn to get over it to keep you in my life. Tell me I am losing my mind.” Evelyn was breathless as she was trying to find the courage to turn and face him. The grip on her wrist was loosening, Cal admitting defeat and letting her go, so she turned and slipped her hand so it was holding his instead.

“You are losing your mind. But I guess I am too.” He looked up at her with eyebrows raised in surprise. A step forward closed any gap between them. “My life…my life is so complicated right now. And you don’t deserve being dragged into that.” They both ached to touch each other but didn’t want to upset the current balance between them. 

“I don’t want to complicate things for you. That is the last thing I would ever want,” he breathed. 

“But I also don’t know when things will ever not be complicated. Logan…he’s dragging things out. Trying to suck me dry. Trying to make me suffer.” Everyone around her was telling her that he was trying to bully her into getting back with him. That he didn’t want this divorce in the first place and would make her life so miserable until she cracked and broke down and went crawling back to him. 

“You tell me what you want to do, Ev. I’ll wait if you ask me to. Wait until the timing is right and we can try to do this the right way.” It would pain him to wait but at least he would know she was waiting on the other side. Having her at arm's length was better than not having her at all.

“Or.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she brought a shaking, unsure hand to his cheek. Callum’s mouth parted at the contact, his own hand resting on top of hers as he felt like he could drop to his knees and worship her at the simple contact alone. “Or I stop letting him dictate a single second of my life. And we go do something sickeningly normal tomorrow night. Just the two of us.”

“Austin will be heartbroken,” he teased. She giggled. “I can take you to my favorite pub in Chelsea. They can be discrete.” 

“Ok.”

“Ok.” Her hand dropped from his cheek and she took a step back towards the door. 

“I’ll see you bright and early, Mr. Turner.” 

“Counting down the seconds, Ms. Shaw.” She turned away from him with a twinkling laugh and exited with a goodbye to Golo as well. “I’ve got a date tomorrow, mate. What the fuck do I wear?” Golo merely blinked at him. 

He doesn’t know how he had managed to reach the heights he was currently soaring to. The most beautiful woman on the planet asking him to take her to a pub. The most talented woman on the planet touching him like he was precious porcelain. He would do anything just for her eyes to land on him. His chest ached to protect her and care for her and let her know she was never alone because she would always have him. The weight of what tomorrow night could mean for him and for her and for a potential future resting on his shoulders. He planned to rise to the challenge just like she deserved. Fight for her to heal. Fight for her to find peace and love.

Fight for their love story to end with the three words she deserved more than anything.

Happily ever after.

[iiconicxpersona]

Don’t Leave Me

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: After an extremely traumatic experience during the Escobar case, reader debates between staying in Colombia with Javier or leaving him for good.

Warnings: smut (18+) mvrd3r, depression, angst, read at your own risk, minors DNI

A/N: Had to repost because original only posted half 😫 to be fair I was at target lmao

Life as the significant other of a DEA agent was no joke, especially for Javier Peña. You had heard the horror stories on the news, and you knew there was much more gruesome details Javier wasn’t telling you about. He sheltered you to the best of his abilities for your sake and for the sake of his own sanity. He liked coming home to some sort of normalcy, but he loved how even after the most life threatening days all it took was holding you in his arms and kissing your lips to make everything all right again. You were his sanctuary, his home.

However, after a year into your relationship with Javi, you finally got a small taste of what Pablo Escobar and the Colombian cartels were capable of.

Javier didn’t give you too many details, but he warned you that it might be safer for you to go back to America and stay with your family until the heat cooled down. Pablo had figured out Javier and Steve Murphy were hot on his tracks and the last thing Javi wanted was for you to get hurt. Nevertheless, you fought against the idea of leaving him—even if it was just temporary—until Javi finally gave in. “You got yourself a fighter, Javs.” Murphy would tell him.

“She doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.” Javier would respond.

He was right. You had absolutely no fucking idea of what you were getting yourself into, until one morning you woke up to the nonstop ringing of the doorbell to your and Javi’s shared apartment. You should’ve known something was up when you looked through the peephole and saw that nobody was there, but curiosity got the best of you.

When you opened the door, there was a package on the floor with no labels on it. You wanted to ignore it, and if Javier didn’t have to leave early for work that morning he would’ve gotten rid of it himself. You had a gut feeling not to open it, but your body reacted faster than your brain and before you knew it the package was sitting on the coffee table in front of you. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Quiet enough that if the package was a bomb, you would hear it. No such sound was made. The Devil and Angel on your shoulders raged against each other on the idea of opening it until you finally started cutting the tape off.

The scream that left your lungs at the sight haunted the entire apartment complex for months. Inside the box were the lifeless head and hands of a woman with features similar to yours. The hands cradled each side of the head while wrapped securely in saran wrap to prevent the blood from dripping. It was pretty clear that this was a message for Javi and for you. They know who you are. They’re watching you.

Javier knew right then and there that you were no longer safe from the reality of this cruel world. His home had been tainted. His sanctuary had burned to the ground. This was all his fault. He shouldn’t have asked you out the night Steve’s wife Connie introduced you. He shouldn’t have called you back for a second and third date. He shouldn’t have made love to you. He shouldn’t have fallen in love with you, but he did.

He fell hard for you, and the worst part is you fell just as hard for him too, even when there were so many signs from his job alone telling you to leave him. This package was the biggest sign of them all.

As much as he loved you, Javier wouldn’t have blamed you one bit if you decided to break up with him. He expected it to happen sooner or later, but despite everything you still chose to stay. “Javier, I love you. We’re in this together no matter what.”

“I promise, cariño, I’m done when this is over. I love you. I want you to marry me. I want you to be the mother of my children. I want to start a new life with you.”

“I want that too, Javi, so much.”

—

Life only seemed to get harder ever since the package delivery scene. As if it wasn’t enough to try and protect himself and Steve on a daily basis, now you were added to the mix. Even though he knew during the day you were safe with Connie at work, on the inside he still worried himself to death over you. He needed to know where you were at every hour of the day and to know you were safe. Steve tried to convince Javi to think of you as one of the former informants he used to sleep with and toss to the back burner while on the job, but Javi couldn’t if he tried. He didn’t love them. He loves you.

That’s the problem; you love Javier. You don’t want to be without him. You and Javier belong together. So why are you still fighting the thought of leaving him? Why are you still looking for any excuse to pack your things and walk away from Colombia and from Javi forever? Why can’t you do it when he flat out tells you “if you want to leave then leave”?

Ever since the delivery, you felt your love for Javier and your sanity struggling to balance on a sewing thread. You couldn’t get the image of the lifeless body parts out of your head. The face of the poor woman haunted you in your sleep. It was as if you were watching like a fly on the wall as her life was being taken away just for a few of her remains to be on your doorstep. And for what? Why did it have to take harming an innocent woman to scare you?

Javier could feel you slipping away from him. Every time he tried to pull you back down to earth, it only ended in an argument. He didn’t like going to bed with your back facing him. He didn’t like ending every fight with giving you the opportunity to leave him for good. He didn’t like going to bed angry and waking up to you not talking to him. He didn’t like hearing you silently sob yourself back to sleep after your reoccurring nightmares, but he had no choice. You weren’t the same anymore. He hated his job for fucking up his own sanity, but he hated it even more for destroying the one good thing he was given in his life; you.

—

After a month of trying to overcome everything by yourself, you finally decided to seek professional help from one of the therapists the DEA provided. Connie recommended for you to see her therapist, Trinidad, after Javier came to Connie desperate for some advice.

Trinidad understood the confidentiality of the ongoing investigation, so she didn’t press you for details. You explained to her about your nightmares and your relationship with Javi. In the end she was only there to let you talk her ear off and prescribe you with anxiety and anti-depressant medication. If it wasn’t for the obvious reasons, you could’ve just called your mom or best friend and did all this from home for free.

By the time Javi came home from work that night, you were already in bed with your back facing his side. You weren’t asleep—God knows you haven’t had a decent sleep in a month—instead you just stared blankly at the wall in front of you. Feeling Javi’s body weight taking his place on his side of the bed, you waited anxiously for the sound of his faint snore to signal it was time for you to yet again sob yourself to sleep.

However, you felt the weight change and suddenly his body was pressed against your back. One of his hands caressed your hip as he began trailing gentle kisses from your shoulder, to your neck, all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Cariño, come back to me, por favor.” He whispered.

Oh how your body ached for his touch. It feels like forever since he last called you ‘cariño’. You didn’t realize how much you missed him. Even though your body was telling him different, your words were trying to push him away.

“Javi, please, don’t.” You groaned as your head fell backwards and your fingers entangled in his hair.

“Please mi vida. We haven’t made love in so long. I miss you.” His hand ran slowly under your sleepwear, at the same time pushing you gently backwards until your body was fully pressed against him.

You gasped at the feel of his bare body spooning you. The arm that was holding him up snaked under your neck and secured your upper body in place as his other hand slowly massaged your soaking wet clit. A desperate moan escaped your lips and you began grinding yourself on his hand.

“Fuck. I missed you so much, baby.” He groaned against your ear.

“I missed you too, Javi. So. Much.” Your legs began spreading wider until your top leg overlapped his own.

His hand fully engulfed your pussy and his fingers slowly worked their way inside you, massaging your walls as you tightened around him. The sound of your moans making him harder than a rock and you could feel how desperate he was to be inside you by how hard he was dry humping you from the back.

You turned your head to face him with your hand still gripping his hair and your hips grinding harder into his hand. “Kiss me.” You moaned.

He didn’t hold back. Javier kissed you so deeply that it took your breath away. Almost as if you were experiencing it for the first time. In fact, this felt almost similar to when he did make love to you for the first time. He made you feel safe. He made you feel beautiful. He worshipped your body like an absolute goddess, kissing every scar and every beauty mark he could find and devouring you like you were his only meal.

The only restraint you had on him were the clothes you had on and you knew he was getting desperate to tear them off, but he also wanted to take his time with you. He wanted to make you feel good. To release the fear and tension that held you captive from him for the past month. He was desperate just to have you back.

His hand gradually picked up the pace and you whined in pure bliss in his mouth. “Javi… baby… I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for me.” Javier whispers in between kisses.

Your lips connected once more in a deep breathtaking kiss as you came hard on his hand. Beads of sweat now starting to form on your bodies.

You rode out your high on his hand and continued to kiss him at the same time, cherishing every moment. “I love you.” You moaned in between kisses.

“I love you too. More than anything.” His hand slipped out of your pants and you both adjusted yourselves to where he was now on top of you in a missionary position. “Querida, I don’t want to be without you, but I don’t want you to live in fear with me either. You’re so pure to me, so fragile. I’ll protect you no matter what. Just please, please don’t leave me like that again.”

Tears fell down your face as you stared up at him. Your heart swelled and broke in your chest at the same time. You didn’t realize it until now, but you scared him. The entire month you shut yourself away from him scared him more than any dangerous curveball his job threw at him. He could be sitting face to face with Escobar himself and that didn’t scare him as much as the thought of knowing his last memory of you would be you scared, tired, sad and angry with him. No last kiss, no last ‘see you later my love’, no last lunch time call, no nothing. And at that moment, you hated yourself for being so selfish the past month. “I’m so sorry, Javi. I didn’t realize—“

He shushed you and gently wiped away your tears. “No llores, mi vida. You have nothing to be sorry about. Just promise me you’ll try to talk to me next time. That’s all I ask.”

You immediately nodded and peppered his lips with kisses. “I will. I’m so sorry baby. I love you so much.” You said in between.

“I love you too.” He returned each kiss and embraced your body closer to him.

Your hands gripped at his bare back as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Make love to me, Javi.” You whispered.

Without hesitation he pulled you up high enough to remove your top, exposing your breasts and you helped him remove your shorts and panties until you were just as bare as he was.

Still sitting upright on his knees, he hugged you body close to him as you adjusted yourself on his lap until his tip was pushing inside you. For a brief moment, you and Javi stared lovingly into each others eyes, saying everything you couldn’t spit out into words right now and kissed each other passionately.

Gasping as you sunk down on him, you had to take a moment to adjust to his size. A month felt like an eternity without him inside you. He groaned as your walls clenched around him and he gently pushed himself further inside you, guiding your hips with his hands as he felt you slowly grind down on him and your body relaxing.

“There you go, baby. Relax for me.” He smiled in the kiss.

You broke the kiss to throw your head back from the pleasure, but one of his hands caught the back of your head and guided you back down to him. “No baby, keep your eyes on me.” He begged and you nodded.

Javi wanted to cherish every moment when he would make love to you. He loved the way your body moved perfectly with his, how the sweat covered you from head to toe, the way your eyes desperately tried to stay open to look at him even when he was balls deep inside you. But what he loved most of all was the sounds you made. The praises that spilled from your beautiful lips, letting him know exactly how good he was making you feel. He loved hearing you moan, especially his name. He didn’t care if anyone else in the complex heard them or not, but if they did then he wanted them to know it was him and only him that could make you feel this good. Just as you wanted everyone to know you belong to Javier Peña and Javier Peña belongs to you.

He pushed you backwards until you were back in the missionary position and kissed you once more. His arms hooked your legs over them and he spread you open wider. Biting at your jawline and chin. His thrusts slammed into you harder and deeper, making you and him moan each other’s names louder. Your nails clawed at his back and he hissed.

It must have occurred to both of you subconsciously that he wasn’t wearing protection and you haven’t taken your birth control pills in the past week, but that didn’t slow either of you down.

“I want you to have my babies.” He groaned against your lips and continued thrusting deep into you.

“Then give them to me, Javi.” You moaned.

Javier lost all self restraint at that moment. He gripped tighter at your legs as his thrusts became faster and deeper, making you cry out for him even louder.

“Ahh, Javi… oh god! So! Fucking! Good!”

“You’re so fucking perfect cariño. All mine.”

You could feel that both of you are so close. His thrusts became sloppy and desperate as you fell apart underneath him.

“Are you ready, my love?” He kissed you once more and tried to keep eye contact with you.

“Give me your babies, Javi.”

And just like that, you both came undone hard at the same time and quivered in each others embrace.

Javi stayed on top of you and kept himself buried deep inside you as if he was afraid of spilling out. You smiled up at him and kissed him passionately once more.

“There’s that beautiful smile I missed so much.”

You giggled. “I’m never leaving you again.”

[bretongirlwrites]

The Falmer gone off in persistent search of my Thrown Voice, and the chaurruses likewise having scuttled away like cats to the rattling of their food-bowl, I bent beside the chest, – which I had determined was either not Falmer; or else some Falmer, tired of spiky grey minimalism and chitin plate, had decided to try a new design. I would not put it past the Falmer of Blackreach, – it must get dull down here, – once the novelties of scrap Dwemer metal and exciting new species of mushroom had worn off; but I was convinced this was from the above-ground; and made by the decidedly not scuttly. The wood had begun to crumple a little; and the hinges had fared little better; but there was a magic on it which even the miserable mizzle of Blackreach could not get to, which my own magic went determined into, and bounced straight off. 

‘Oh!’ said I: ‘do you know a better lockpicking spell?’

Marcurio looked askance at me, and said that the first thing every student learns, when clambering back to the university after a night of revelry, with the curfew in full force, is from the renowned book It's A Hard Lock Life For Us. – I therefore invited him to try. His spell, – o I could not imagine him revelling!, – bounced straight back as mine had.

‘If experience is anything to go by,’ said he, ‘the hardest locks guard fifty-seven septims and an iron dagger. – We ought to keep moving.’

‘Oh!’ I returned, ‘I want to see, – it rattles, listen, –’

And so after much deliberation, we decided upon trying a combined spell; joined hands, summoned it; and not knowing quite if combination worked, tried it regardless. The poor battered box looked miserably at us; creaked; and gave up entirely.

‘A crimson nirnroot!’ I cried at once.

‘Julienne, we already have thirty, –’ Marcurio protested. 

I must scowl and pick up the thing (which was damp quite beyond the norm for a nirnroot, more on the slimy sort of scale); and putting it carefully between two bits of paper, slide it in with the rest. The others in my bag were still chiming, faintly; this one let out a pathetic little whine and fell silent.  

‘Julienne, –’ said Marcurio suddenly. 

He thrust his hand into the box, and drew out the thing I'd wholly ignored, in favour of the sad nirnroot. – A thing which had kept its lustre, despite or perhaps because of the nirnroot-slime at the edges; which was so golden as to half blind us, in the thin darkness of Blackreach; and which we thought, somewhere in our unconsciousness, that we recognised. It was long, thin and perfectly unearthly. It was an Elder Scroll. 

Marcurio whistled: held the thing up as if to read it: thought better of it, valuing despite everything his sanity; and so kept it rolled up and wielded it quite fit to hit someone over the head with it. – I looked about for Falmer and doubted they’d succumb to a whack with a scroll. – The place still empty, – for my Voice had echoed over cliffs and chasms and possibly directly into a troll-nest, – he beheld it eyes gleaming, and said:

‘This must be what we’re looking for! Someone’s been to Mzark before us, –’

‘Oh!’ said I, ‘I hope they haven’t done anything stupid.’

‘They have left an Elder Scroll in a box in a Falmer camp,’ said he, ‘I don’t think we can hope for too much.’

‘How will we know if it is the right Scroll?’ said I.

Marcurio feigned having already been inspecting the thing for identifying marks. He was just about to declare that a particular engraving looked like a dragon; when suddenly he deflated, and cried:

‘The damnable, – the bloody, –

And all at once, he unfurled the Scroll and held it before him; I jumped forwards and feared we’d both be blinded and the ceiling collapse and the world end, – but nothing happened save that Marcurio put his head in his hands and threw the Scroll in my general direction. It did not blind me; nor was it inscribed in enigmas and mysteries; it said at the top: Special Limited Edition; and in the rest of it, things which cannot be related for reasons of decency and copyright. In the early Fourth Era, it seems, there had been a fad for novelty books, which had exceeded the boundaries of decorum, and also of people’s bookshelves; and which had, apparently, gone so far into the tacky and out of the other side, that we’d both of us been fooled. A run of popular books had been printed in the form of Elder Scrolls; and for reasons known only to a certain debauched actor of deepest history, one of them had been The Lusty Argonian Maid. 

‘I want to gouge my eyes out,’ said Marcurio. 

I looked at him; at the scroll, foolishly; thought the same thing; wondered if a Moth Priest had ever been driven to voluntary blindness by bad erotica; and burst out laughing.

‘It isn’t funny!’ said he: ‘we wasted so much magicka on that damn lock, –’

‘Oh!’ said I, ‘we have a crimson nirnroot, –’

It was too dark to see what else was in the box: but perceiving glimmers which reflected the distant pinpricks on the vault, I put my hand in. I found a coin or two, – what I hoped for fear of worse, were the wet remains of another nirnroot, – then, at last, after all our treasure-hunting efforts, my fingers fell upon something smooth, something cut, something faceted, –

‘A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON! –’

[whosthere54]

So I need to yell more about Ajax and Rayko so here have this. I had to write about them. I’m going to write even more about them but this is my first thoughts so here take it /lh.

TWs for this are the same as the lore - which is yelling, panic, and violence. I will also say death as a TW for this but if you watched the stream you should be fine. Take care of yourselves <3

“I hope you found what you were looking for 'cause all the pain I carry in my soul is all because you left me here alone” - Song: God’s not home by TROY

Or - A brother’s ending.

The brothers stopped in a clearing, panting as they’d been running for probably too long to be healthy.

“Ajax- Ajax look away. Ajax I’m gonna need you to look away okay?” Rayko turns to his younger brother, brushing his hair from his face as he checks his inventory for anything *else* he could use.

Ajax looks up at him confused. “I- wha- Ray?”

He doesn’t look up as he speaks again. “Just look away kiddo it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay.”

The shadow of a person moved closer, all Ajax could pay attention to was their heart pounding in their ears so fast it made their head hurt.

“Go-go ‘Jax. C'mon- go hide over there for me, okay?” Rayko was kneeled in front of them, hands placed on their shoulders as he spoke. He continues to glance behind the two, bow and arrow in hand and quiver only half full.

“Wha… Rayko-“ Ajax tries- he doesn’t want to leave him again. He wants to help! He can help-

“Now Ajax!” Rayko says sharply, and they flinch.

“I- fine- okay!”

They nod and Rayko pushes them, turning to stand up and nocking an arrow. Rayko looks over at them one last time with a sad smile.

“Just close your eyes and put your hands over your ears alright? Just like last time I showed you- remember?”

They let out a shaky breath and nodded, running out of the clearing and through a few trees. They’re able to hide as the footsteps grow closer, finding a hole inside of a charred and dead tree that they could move the branches in front of so they wouldn’t be seen.

They leave just enough space to be able to see their brother. He pulls his bow back and shoots the figure as they break through the clearing. His bow isn’t enough, and the figure easily is able to knock him down and put their sword through Rayko’s shoulder.

Ajax shuts their eyes tightly after that, curling up inside the tree with their knees pulled tight to their chest and hand over their mouth as their brother yells out in pain. They can hear him struggle for a minute before there’s silence- but the silence is *so so loud*.

The birdsong went silent, the birds having flown away at the first scream. The only sound they could hear was the wind shaking the leaves as it moved through the trees.

They stay in that tree for- they don’t really know how long after that. Their breathing shakes as they keep trying to get it under control, and their senses are heightened to the point that they jump at every step an animal takes nearby.

They’re able to pull themself together just before the sun peeks through the leaves, double-checking their materials before exiting the alcove in silence.

They’ll have to win without Rayko then- they can do that. They’ve done it before- and he came back the next game.

They ignore the voice in the back of their head saying what if he doesn’t come back. What if he’s gone and you’re alone and and and-

They take another breath before starting their way back through the Forest.

—=+=—

This was stupid- it was.

They felt like a kid again, trying desperately not to cry for whatever number this time was that his brother had gotten killed.

-Rayko was slain by red using [[Server killer lite]]-

Their sanity wasn’t helping, whispers mingling with the things getting glitchy and messed up and confusing- Why won’t they go away?

They muffle a quiet sob- quickly composing themself voice only shaking slightly when they speak again.

“How many lives do you even have?” They say it sharply, wincing almost at the sound of their own voice. Anger was easy. They knew how to be angry- they knew how to fuel anger they knew it- they *understood* it. This was different. They don’t like it- they don’t like how it makes their chest and head *hurt* they don’t like how their eyes hurt from them holding back tears they don’t like that their voice shakes even when they try to go back to anger.

They hate that they *know* it’s not working. They hate that Emmie and Red and *Rayko* know. They hate that they sound weak- whimpering and crying like a pathetic injured animal and they hide and corner themself in this enclosed space that they deem warm and safe as it raises their sanity.

“Seven. I won’t even be able to lose them all like this but I can help you guys get better.”

They *hate* that Rayko answers so calmly. Like it doesn’t hurt him that he’s getting killed over and over in such a short span of time. (Maybe he got used to it- but if that’s the case then *why haven’t they-*)

“Glad to see you at least give a tiny shit about us.” They try to be angry- and it works. It works but it doesn’t *keep* working- it works but then it doesn’t.

-Someone’s behind me-

They let out a shaky breath, holding the small plastic replica head you get every kill before moving it to their inventory so they don’t have to fucking look at it-

“C’mon Emmie.” Rayko tries.

“I don’t- I don’t want to.” She shakes her head with a frown.

“I want you to rank higher in the game.” Rayko repeats softly.

“I don’t fucking care about *ranking* Rayko. I’ve done this for fucking eight seasons now- I’ve won twice it doesn’t matter. I’ve *tried* throwing I’ve tried everything to get out of this. I’m- I’m *so happy* you’re getting out, okay? I need you- I need you to get out. Okay? But I won’t- I will not kill you over this. I don’t care anymore. I haven’t *cared* since- I don’t know, the computer? I just keep coming back here and I keep trying because Ajax and Ronnie are here. I- when you get to where you’re going just… be happy and be free but I’m not gonna kill you. Okay?” Emmie’s voice breaks as she talks, and the things get so much louder.

-The voices… I can’t…-

They have to look away from the shadows in the corner of their vision as their sanity stays too low. They move so they can see Rayko and Emmie again, their voice coming out too angry and too sharp.

“No- just kill him. It doesn’t matter anyway.” They feel bad immediately when Emmie and Rayko look at him, tears streaming down both their faces.

“I’m sorry… but you should.” This time they just sound defeated- and that’s almost worse.

“I don’t know… it’s been really fun being able to hang out and do this with you though.” Emmie says softly as she turns back to Rayko.

They feel like they’re in the void again.

-Don’t space out-

They feel like they’re in the void again and *fuck* they can’t focus. Their sanity probably has something to do with it but they just can’t- though at the same time they can’t look away either.

They watch Rayko give Emmie his armor… tears in his eyes as he pretends to provoke Red only for Red to kill him in one hit.

-What a strange feeling.-

They look away, a shaky breath escaping their lips as they pace on the carpet a bit again. Before pulling their sword out. They pass it between their hands for a moment, lightly spinning it in their grip as they steel their expression again.

They walk out to the edge of the island where their bridge connects, blocking Rayko from being able to get up. It’s easier when they’re numb. Anger can do that- it makes everything easier.

“C’mon…”

Rayko looks at them for a moment, before they sigh. “Fine just… just get on the island.”

Rayko stands across from them, arms open so his chest is unprotected. They run up easily, killing him in one hit. They hold their bloody sword in their hand, eyes cast to the ground again as Rayko asks Emmie once more to take two more of his lives.

“It really doesn’t feel right, I don’t know…”

“Just do it.” They mumble sharply.

Emmie looks at him sadly- pity or concern held in her gaze they don’t know.

-What’s there?-

They go back into the little mushroom house, standing close to the fires for barely a moment before heading back out and speaking again.

“He wouldn’t want to take us anyway.”

Rayko looks at him again but this time there’s a sense of betrayal in his gaze, and he looks at them in a way that makes their skin crawl.

“Yes, I would! I would *love* for you to get to meet them. I would love to show you the house that we have. I would love for you to get to show cash your machines- I would love for Fang to get to meet you- I would love for Xiphos and Emmie to get to go swimming. I would love nothing more.”

Rayko’s voice breaks more and more and he says this, and Ajax can’t. They put their sword away.

“Because this place is always fucking worse! At least other places it was just… I don’t know… silly games. Or… it used to be stuff like that. It used to be silly games and fun things and then when we got older it became *death* and *murder* and *torture* and *violence* and me watching my little brother *die* again and again and I don’t wanna be here anymore Ajax!” His voice progressively breaks more and more as he says this, tears streaming down his face as he yells the last bit.

They can’t. They look away from him again, quickly wiping tears away before looking back at their brother. They hate that this is the time they realize how much they *fucking missed him.*

“I just… I thought I had you back. That’s it, that’s all.” Their voice breaks as they try not to cry- they can’t not hear. Not when all of them are looking at him they can’t-

“I wanna be back. But I also know that I’m not as good at this as you are. You’re really good at this, you’re really good at these games I don’t want you to have to be good but I’m *not.*”

He breathes shakily for a moment, before stepping towards Ajax again.

“Do you wanna go instead if we could try someone else going-“

Ajax shakes his head and Rayko stops.

“I have nothing over there. I barely have anything here but I have… something. There’s nothing for me over there.” They look at Emmie for a moment before turning back to Rayko. Emmie moves next to him- not touching but keeping a close proximity of comfort that they extremely appreciate.

They look away when Emmie kills him next.

-Rayko was slain by Emmie-

They exhale shakily, looking back up when he respawns back. Emmie frowns turning to them when Ronnie sends a message in chat to make fun of her- and they quickly type back telling him to shut up.

They look away on the last couple of hits as Emmie takes the last kill.

“So now you just go?” God they hate the way their voice shakes.

Rayko looks at them sadly and turns to dig through his stuff. “I um… I should make sure everything is out of my bags. Um… we can go home and put everything away for you all.”

They set up a portal back home and they’re the last one to go through.

Ajax can’t do anything while Rayko puts away all his stuff. They can’t bring themself to move, just watching him run around the base putting all his belongings away to make it easier for them.

Emmie moves just so she can block their line of vision to Rayko.

“You okay?” She asks softly, and they can’t lie to her. They shake their head, quickly wiping tears from their eyes and Emmie lightly moves his hands, replacing them with hers to gently wipe some of the rapidly falling tears. She pulls them into a hug, wings and tail wrapping around them protectively and they rest their forehead on her shoulder. She nuzzles his hair lightly before pulling away, and they stay close as Rayko finishes everything he needs.

Red looks at them from across the room, head tilted just slightly as if to ask a silent question. They nod, giving it a weak smile. Red nods back, and both turn back to Rayko.

Surprisingly Red is the one to speak first. “Before you go. I’m glad you’re getting out. I… I’ve had other people I care about get out of here. So I’m glad you’re able to. You go… be amazing.”

Rayko laughs softly. “Yeah. Thank you, Red.”

Emmie speaks next. “You go live your best life out there and never have to touch blood and madness or any sort of subsection of stuff like that ever again. Go hug your partners for us.”

He smiles. “Mhm.”

He turns to Ajax and they let out a shaky breath.

“I… I’m glad I got to see you again.”

His expression crumbles slightly. “You too. Thank you.”

They shake their head and turn to grab the fist full of jam from the chest next to them.

“If you’re taking something with you…”

A series of sad laughs fill the room.

Rayko nods. “Okay…”

Emmie speaks again. “And I mean this in the greatest nicest way possible I hope I never see you again. Or if I do, it’s in greener pastures.”

Red nods. “I hope I never see you back *here* again.”

Emmie laughs softly and nods. “Yeah… that’s a better way to phrase it.”

Rayko nods. “Goodbye, all of you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye Rayko.”

He turns to them again, just looking at him a moment before speaking softly.

“Bye Ajax.” They say goodbye at the same time, and they breathe shakily with a nod.

They walk up and hug their older brother tightly. His wings wrap around the two of them easily. They stay like that for a moment, Rayko’s hand running through Ajax’s hair and Ajax gripping tightly to the back of Rayko’s shirt. Rayko pulls away first, he pulls away first, and they move back to their spot beside Emmie wiping away more tears.

“Good luck, all of you.” Rayko smiles softly.

“You too.”

Their eyes were shut tightly, but they opened them just as Rayko disappeared and it felt like they’ve watched him die all over again. They breathe shakily composing themself before turning to their teammates.

Gods the two were both looking at him- they can’t-

“Well, I uh- don’t know what to do now. Uh…”

They pause, glancing at the magic materials Rayko left behind. “Guess we have a lot of magic stuff to do yeah? Or something?” They laugh softly, and both of them nod.

Their eyes linger on the spot where Rayko vanished again. And they shake their head.

“I uh… I need a second if that’s okay…”

They both nod. “Yeah, take your time.” “Yeah yeah take your time Ajax.”

They nod, heading back into their machine room.

They sit on their bed, covering their face with their hands as they begin to cry, muffling the quiet sobs. It only lasts for a minute though, before they wipe their tears and shake their head again, just breathing shakily as they get it to stop.

“Get back up.” They run their hands through their hair. Quickly wiping more tears.

“Get back up. What’s even different yknow? You did this for how many years you can do it again.” They move so their back is settled against the machine behind them, legs still dangling over the edge of the bed. They wrap their arms around their torso as they try to console themself.

“It’s uh… it’s a death game. It’s a death game. You lose people anyway.” Their eyes fall on the lightning in a bottle Rayko gave them and a new wave of tears come that they have to wipe away. They move so they’re facing away from it.

“God there’s so much of… stuff.”

They pull their knees up so they hug them to their chest. “There’s so much to do…”

They laugh softly.

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all. Probably a better thing. I already spent enough hours in here- I can… what’s another week y’know?” They sigh heavily wiping their eyes again.

“…Fuck man.” They just sit and breathe for longer than they deem necessary. “I uh- I have to- I have to lay down. Uh… is that okay? Is that okay things?” They don’t know why they ask- they know that it doesn’t matter.

They lay down, and the things leave eventually.

They’re left in silence, and the silence is *so so loud.*

The sound left with the things, them all going off to do who knows what. The only sounds left are the crackling of campfires and their machines running behind them.

They stay in bed for- they don’t really know how long after that. Their breathing shakes as they keep trying to get it under control.

They’re able to pull themself together just before daylight, double-checking the materials left in their inventory before they get up again.

They’ll have to do this without Rayko then- they can do that. They’ve done it before- and they can do it again.

They ignore the voice in the back of their head saying what if everyone else leaves? What if they leave and you’re alone and and and-

(Nobody else will leave if they do this right. They can be useful- they can do this right. They can.)

They take another breath before going to check on their machines.

[mcdonaldsplayground]

| actually the worst | part 3

ao’nung x f!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | bonus part

summary: your relationship with ao’nung has become complicated, to say the least. every second you spend near him makes you hate him even more, but it’s hard to hate someone when they can’t stop touching you. however, things only seem to get worse when a fight breaks out and you get hurt.

includes: enemies to lovers, swearing, teasing, fighting, ao’nung being rude😤

word count: 3k

a/n: i’m sorry i did not think this was going to have so many parts, but i think i gotta just keep writing until it feels finished🫡 also pls lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series:) i hope i already added everyone who asked in part 2

“[Y/N], hurry up!” Tuk whined, dancing around the entrance of the marui as she waited for you. You sighed, cracking one eye open.

“So much for napping, I guess.” You began to get up, stretching out your limbs, taking as long as possible.

“You said you would walk me to the beach for lessons! We’re going to be late!” Your sister frowned, crossing her arms as you continued to drag your feet. The truth was, you were putting off going to lessons. You hadn’t seen Ao’nung since the ilu riding incident and frankly, it had been relaxing. He had apparently been too busy with his warrior training for the past week, but Tsireya said he would be joining you all again today. Tragic.

“Tuk, maybe you should just tell them I’m not feeling well.” You tried, giving her a hopeful look. Of course, she wasn’t having it.

“I overheard you and Kiri talking this morning about the reason why you don’t want to go…” She started, the beginnings of an evil grin showing on her lips. “It would really be a shame if I had to tell Ao’nung that you’re scared of him.”

“I am not!” You exclaimed, mentally kicking yourself. “He’s just an annoying pest is all.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Now, let’s go!” Sometimes you wondered if she was really your younger sister with the way she manipulated you and your siblings. Most of the time it was funny, but today you were irritated.

“You have no sympathy, woman.” You shook your head, watching as Tuk grinned triumphantly and began skipping outside.

The short walk to the beach consisted entirely of Tuk skipping and humming a little tune while you ignored her and went over the best plan for avoiding Ao’nung. You decided that avoiding eye contact was crucial to ignoring him. At least then you wouldn’t get that stupid feeling in your stomach and you could maintain some sanity.

“Look who decided to join us, how kind of you!” Kiri chirped teasingly when you and Tuk finally approached where they were waiting on the beach. You felt a little bit bad considering they had probably been waiting a while, but didn’t dwell on it long when you noticed Ao’nung and his signature cocky smirk staring right at you. You made a point of looking away, focusing on Tsireya instead.

“Sorry, Reya. I wasn’t feeling well earlier, but I think I’m okay now.” You apologized, though you knew what you had said was pretty much the exact opposite to how you currently felt, especially when Tuk decided to pipe up.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure [Y/N] felt sick because Ao’nung is-” She didn’t get to finish as you cut in hurriedly.

“Um, what are we doing today?” You didn’t miss the surprised expressions everyone wore, you just silently prayed they would gloss over it. Unfortunately, the last person you wanted to hear from spoke up.

“No, what was she going to say? That you felt sick because of me?” You continued to avoid looking at the boy, but you could practically hear the smugness on his face. You realized that the only way out now was through.

“Yeah, I was telling everyone that I think looking at your face triggers my gag reflex.” You watched the others’ reactions instead of Ao’nung, hoping your refusal to meet his eyes was annoying him.

“Funny. I was just thinking about how much your freaky forest face-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, bro.” Lo’ak cut him off in annoyance, though he was grinning at the bickering. You felt relieved, but still pretty tense. You had come to believe that was just a side effect of being near Ao’nung. Oh, how you longed for last week when he wasn’t around.

As the tension lifted and everyone started getting in the water, Lo’ak nudged you, grinning.

“Can’t you just get along with him?” He asked and you cocked an eyebrow.

“That’s rich coming from you. You hate him just as much as me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have a crush on him.” Lo’ak cackled as your jaw dropped, nearly going into cardiac arrest.

“What! I- You- I do not have a crush on him, Lo’ak!” You hissed, glancing around to see if anybody could hear you. Luckily they were preoccupied underwater.

“Whatever you say, [Y/N].” Lo’ak shook his head, still chuckling as he dove underwater, leaving you seething.

While everyone practiced diving and swimming around the reef, you couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Lo’ak.

He was wrong. How could you have a crush on someone whose lights you wanted to punch out? His entire being made your nerves jump and your heart race because you hated him. Yes, Lo’ak was wrong, and you were going to prove it.

Well, you were going to prove it later when you weren’t so out of breath. You surfaced for the millionth time that day, breathing hard from trying to push yourself to stay down longer. Beside you, Neteyam and Lo’ak were in a similar state. Only Kiri seemed to be adapting well, but even she couldn’t stay down half as long as the Metkayina. You were about to try your hand again when Tsireya popped up, followed by Rotxo and Ao’nung. You silently groaned.

“This isn’t working. You have learned nothing.” Ao’nung jibed.

“Yeah, no offence, but you guys kind of suck at this.” Rotxo laughed, sharing a grin with his best friend. You huffed.

“I think we should go back to the basics. We can do some breathing lessons outside of the water to build up your endurance.” Tsireya explained, smiling encouragingly.

“Breathing lessons?” Ao’nung snorted. “That is how babies train.”

“Perfect for you, then.” You muttered, turning to follow Tsireya back to shore.

When everyone had been rounded up on shore, you all sat in a circle amongst the greenery. It would have been relaxing, except for Ao’nung, who chose to sit directly beside you. The close proximity reminded you of how his touch had felt on your skin, how he radiated body heat despite being in the water most of the time. The thoughts made you want to reach over and strangle him. The only good thing was that being beside you made it easier to avoid his gaze as you kept your eyes straight ahead on Tsireya.

She began to teach you about some breathing techniques, like how it was best to breath deeply from the abdomen rather than your chest. When she mentioned the importance of relaxing and slowing your heartbeat , you had to force yourself to forget about the infuriating presence beside you, which was proving difficult. Your heart beat was decently slow, but you were tense and very aware of your surroundings, like how Ao’nung’s knee was mere inches away from your own. The space between you felt charged with energy and it seemed to transfer onto your skin.

“Here, breathe from here.” You heard Tsireya say gently, and you cracked your eyes open. She had placed her hand across Lo’ak’s abdomen in an attempt to get him to breathe correctly. After a moment she said, “Lo’ak, your heartbeat is fast.”

You immediately shared knowing looks with your siblings, chuckling to yourself at how hard Lo’ak was trying to remain calm and nonchalant. Tsireya’s small smile convinced you that she knew what she was doing, making you silently laugh even more.

“What are you laughing at, skxawng?” You heard from beside you, and it took some effort not to turn your head toward him and make some snide remark.

“Nothing.” You replied blankly, trying to focus again on breathing.

“Nothing?” He breathed, quiet enough that only you could hear. Then, without warning, his warm hand was pressed firmly but gently on your abdomen, nearly sending you to Eywa. You froze, afraid that if you moved it would bring attention to the two of you. Your whole body shivered at the sensation of his touch, quickly warming as if a fire had blossomed right where his hand sat, calm and steady.

“If you don’t breathe sometime you’re going to pass out, forest girl.” His voice dripped with amusement. You seriously contemplated just passing out instead of giving in, but eventually let your breath out, making sure to remain quiet. “Your heartbeat is fast.” He mimicked his sister’s words and you could see the shit-eating grin he wore in the corner of your eye. You heartbeat was, in fact, fast. Fast enough that you briefly worried the others might be able to hear it.

“Do I still make you sick?” He breath fanned across your neck, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood suddenly, nearly knocking the boy out. Everyone’s heads snapped toward you, looking concerned.

“I’m actually not feeling well.” Your words rushed out quickly, not even bothering to wait for any response before you turned and walked as quickly as possible away from the group. It took everything you had not to break into a sprint.

“What the fuck?” You muttered to yourself, rapidly trying to process what had just happened.

Kiri found you sitting on one of the giant mangrove roots that was tucked out of sight from the village. It had only been a few minutes since you had rushed away, and part of you wanted to tell her to leave you alone for a while longer. However, when she sat down next to you, it was a welcome comfort.

“What happened?” She questioned, searching your eyes as if they could tell her the answer. You just shook your head, attempting to clear it before you spoke.

“Something is wrong with me, Ki.”

“What do you mean?” She had a way about her that made you feel entirely safe to say anything you wanted without fear of judgement. Kiri was not usually so empathetic, but the two of you had a deeper understanding of one another. So, you explained everything to her. How you despised Ao’nung and his arrogant remarks. How much it frustrated you that you didn’t have a good reason for hating him. And of course how odd he made you feel when he looked at you or touched you.

“So what I’m hearing is that he’s touching you without your consent?” Kiri finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had set in after your explanation. You snorted at her fake serious face, already feeling a little better.

“If he was, he wouldn’t have arms anymore, probably courtesy of you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam.” You chuckled, imagining how that would play out. “No, I mean, I think what bugs me about when he does that is that I actually don’t… hate it?” The last words felt sour on your tongue, making you regret them almost instantly. Thankfully, Kiri had the courtesy not to laugh at you.

“So you like him, then?” She asked and you whipped your head back to stare at her.

“No, of course not! I’m just not used to male attention like that. He’s using it against me because he thinks it’s funny. He’s arrogant, and stupid, and I would honestly rather eat sand than talk to him longer than five seconds.” You finished, hoping you got your point across well enough. You couldn’t tell if Kiri was buying it, but everything you said was true. That boy was a pain in the ass.

A few weeks later, you and Kiri were using your free time to mess around on the beach. Things between you and Ao’nung changed since that day during breathing lessons. You had decided to stop acknowledging him and his goading remarks, to his chagrin. When he would make a snide comment you would either ignore it or respond civilly, clearly frustrating the boy. In response, he had become crueler and crueler. At this point, he was a terror, someone to avoid at all costs.

This sentiment ran through your head as you looked up and saw Ao’nung and his terrible friends approaching your twin, who was blissfully unaware as she stared down at the sand under the water. Feeling protective, you quickly made your way over, trying to hear what they were saying.

“She’s just looking at the sand.” One of them remarked, followed by a few barking laughs. Before you could make it all the way over, Kiri seemed to notice them standing above her and started to stand too.

“Hm? What’d you say?”

“Are you some kind of… freak?” Ao’nung questioned, deliberately flicking his gaze up to lock with yours as you came to stand beside Kiri. There was a pause before Kiri sighed and began to walk away, you in tow.

“No.” She said, looking at the ground. Your fists clenched.

“Are you sure?” He taunted, clearly not content to let the two of you off so easily.

“She said no, dipshit.” You couldn’t hold back, replying in your usual manner for the first time in weeks. Something flickered in Ao’nung’s eyes and his smirk widened. He suddenly reached forward, trying to grab your hand.

“You’re not even real Na’vi. Look at these hands.” He managed to grasp onto your wrist, pulling it towards him in a surprisingly gentle manner. His tone didn’t match. “I mean, look at them!”

“Hey!” Lo’ak appeared from the trees behind you, looking pissed. “Back off, fish lips.” Ao’nung grinned, releasing his grip on you. A ring of fire blazed along your wrist and you tried to shake it off, annoyed that he still had that affect on you.

“Oh, another four-fingered freak!” Ao’nung exclaimed, laughing as he and his friends continued to mess with Lo’ak.

“Leave us alone!” Kiri said forcefully, eyes darting nervously between Lo’ak and the other boys. Thankfully, Neteyam came stalking over, shoving Ao’nung away from the three of you.

“You heard what she said. Leave them alone.” His voice was calm, demanding. Pride swelled in your chest at your older brother, always the protector and mediator. One of Ao’nung’s friends tried to step in, but Ao’nung pushed him back, clearly trying his best to look like he wasn’t afraid of Neteyam. “Back off, now.”

There was a stretch of tense silence before Ao’nung finally took a step back, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Smart choice,” Neteyam said. “And from now on, I need you to respect my sisters.” A few of them hissed at his words, but allowed you all to turn and start walking away. Before you followed, you stuck your tongue out at Ao’nung, earning a scoff and a glare from him. You knew it was childish, but you couldn’t help it. After all, you had been civil for over a week, which was torture.

As you walked off, you could hear the boys giggling and continuing to talk shit. Beside you, Lo’ak paused, deciding to turn back around.

“Lo’ak!” Neteyam hissed, but it was too late.

“I got this, bro.” Lo’ak held his hand up, slowly making his way back to face Ao’nung. “I know this hand is funny,” He wiggled his pinky. “Look, I’m a freak. Alien.” The boys snickered. “But, it can do something really cool.” Lo’ak continued talking, but you mentally groaned, knowing where this was going. Before you could say anything, Lo’ak had punched Ao’nung, hard. “It’s called a punch, bitch! Don’t ever touch my sister again!”

Next thing you knew, Ao’nung was tackling Lo’ak to the ground, his friends joining in on what you were starting to think was going to be the beat down of the century. You and Kiri shared a look as Neteyam scratched his head, resigning himself to joining the fight.

“Stop it, stop!” Kiri called, exasperated.

“This is so stupid,” You muttered, growing a little worried as you watched your brothers in the outnumbered fight. Gathering your courage, you decided to step in when Lo’ak started getting hit a little too hard in your opinion. “Can you guys just stop before someone gets seriously-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before you got an elbow to the cheek from one of the guys punching Lo’ak. It was obviously not on purpose, but everyone stopped, silent for a moment as you hissed in pain, frowning.

“Okay that’s it-” Lo’ak was about to go in for another punch before you aggressively tugged him away.

“No! No more fighting!” You barked, marching Lo’ak steadily away. “Stupid boys acting like stupid mongrels. I can’t believe I just watched you all be so stupid, and for what?” You muttered angrily, mostly to yourself.

As you and your siblings walked away for good this time, you glanced back at the Metkayina boys. You thought maybe they would be laughing, but to your surprise, Ao’nung appeared to be scolding the boy who had accidentally hit you. You stared for a little too long because Ao’nung seemed to feel your gaze and looked up, meeting your eyes. It was unsettling to see his usual smirk replaced with worry.

taglist:

@luvlykrispy @foreverfolkloregirly @findingourtreasure @tiddybiddy @nao-cchi @goodiesinthecloset21 @elegantkidfansoul @azaleaniath @cloakedvengeance

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 3

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

They drink the tea. Remus sits at the small kitchen table, tries to fix the crossword. Sirius stays at the window, pointing out everything he sees and deems interesting. (That woman and her dog look identical. There’s a cat sitting on the boot of that car there, does it come every day? Think I could feed it some fish? I’ve heard there are a lot of strays in Egypt. Maybe if it’ll like me it will come inside.)

“I’ll need to go shopping today,” he says, finally, after having been ignored for the rest.

Remus has been given strict rules from the Ministry, and the first one is: don’t let the criminal out by himself. “Whatever for?” He asks because everything Black could possibly want is already in the apartment.

“Clothes.”

“You got clothes yesterday.”

“What, those things Shacklebolt had left? No way am I wearing those.”

There’s a scowl on his face, accentuating the sharpness of cheekbones.

“I’m not wasting money on your vanity, Black. Anyway, it seems like you managed to get yourself something,” he points to the white shirt, ignoring the way its sheerness offsets the tattoos.

“Like it?” Black hops off the windowsill, does a little shimmy. “I’ve transfigured the curtains.”

He must read the expression on Remus’ face correctly, because he adds, no remorse and full of mischief: “don’t worry, they’re the ones in my room. I prefer to have full access to morning light. And I have money, I’ll have you know. Don’t need you to buy me clothes.”

It’s a beautiful shirt. Looks delicate. Immaculately centred on Blacks collarbones and only showing the very outline of them. A tiny pattern of flowers on the cuffs.

“Fine,” Remus concedes, thinking he needs to get more cigarettes anyway. “We’ll get you more clothes before you rid us of all the soft furnishings.”

The smile Black gives him is both beautiful and so self-satisfied it renders the beauty frustrating. Remus wants to take back his acquiesce – he hates it, that he gave in. People like Black (beautiful, rich, connected) already get what they want too often. Remus vows, for his own sanity or for his own wicked amusement, to stand firm next time and say no. No to shopping, no to cigarettes, no to tea.

If time in jail didn’t teach Black not to take things for granted, then Remus will.

“Change that one back though. I’m not having the hotel bill the University just because you decided to play at a fashion designer.”

“You’re no fun, you know that?”

“I do, in fact. Lucky for me we’re not here for fun.”

“Right. This research you’re doing,” he says research so pointedly there is no need for quotation marks. Remus feels mocked. “Ever going to tell me what it is?”

“As Kingsley said: you’ll be told when you need to know.”

Black huffs, throws himself onto a chair opposite Remus. The way he moves is more than dignified: each careless turn is as fluent as water. Even with how thin he is now, and Remus imagines that’s the result of jail rather than a choice, Black is graceful. Fingers wrapped around a mug, ankles and long legs on display. Every delicate, breakable bone a sight people would pay to see.

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[stari-hun]

Limbus Maxxing

My live rambles on limbus company as I play (I like Mili so imma play for them).

Prologue rambles under the cut

TRUCK KUN?!

Ok Kaalaa Baunaa ass

Oh great so our name is Dante and we just made a pact with some unknown entities who are vaguely ominous and homosexual

-

Faust: Wassup dawg ur now leader of the squad

MC: what squad??? WHO ARE YOU???

Faust: Not the people killing you

-

OH GOD WHY DOES THE BATTLE MECHANIC LOOK SO SCARY-

Oh god I’m not understanding shit. Can’t wait to overlevel and just be op

-

Panther: 0 stars on Yelp, shit theatre kid performance, will not be going back

-

Ah yes a clock with a time gimmick very unexpected much wow very woah

-

The CG art is so cool, fully how it’s different than the sprites

-

MC is fr deciding trust purely off vibe checking people

-

MC: why is everyone calling me Dante?

Faust: It’s your name

MC: Nuh uh

Faust, ignoring MC: You’ll get used to it

-

Gregor: ay Buddy just to start off with, I’m not judging with anyone’s representation and what they decide to do with their head yk? Your body ur choice

-

Mmm delicious immoral actions and expectations from a higher organization in control the group is forced to rely on. I eat it up every time. Constantine would thrive in this world

-

Ishmael: All of your introductions are disappointing as hell. You do know this is us introducing ourselves to a superior right? We’re working right now.

Also Ishmael: I’m Ishmael

LIKE LMAOO????? All that and she also gives an informal introduction. Also the similarities in the way the intro cards treat Sinners and how Arcanists are treated in hit game Reverse 1999

-

Heathcliff: Yeah I don’t care about trying to please you or fitting in (proceeds to give one of the only proper self introductions)

HELLOOOO???? If he gets angry we contact HR lmaoooo

-

Ok Tsukasa move it on

-

Ah yes, the token autistic member, I see you Hong Lu

Ignoring that lady-

Ah another autistic, this time one with an unfortunate but definitely gendered name. Love me a character who just wants to do their job then clock out

Oh ew Dante is French /silly

-

MC: wow Meursault you’re really one of the polite people here :)

Meursault: This is the normal reaction for this situation

MC: :)

MC’s thoughts: Something’s deeply wrong with him.

-

Outis going on this long chuunibiyou like rant to MC while they have no clue what’s going on still

Outis: I vow to serve you with unrivaled devotion, Executive Manager. My blade is yours to wield.

MC: here I thought you’d be one of the normal ones….

-

MC: I mean I want my head back but eh….. eH

Vergilius: smh, I tell you to go to hell and you hesitate? Smh.

-

Imagine losing ur head and memories and non-binary company takes you, dies, gets revived, and tells you to literally go to hell

-

Faust: Ur strategy game is clearly shit so let me tell you how to improve

-

Vergilius: enough useless chatter

No???? Knowing how to revive people is actually incredibly useful?? I need to know how to be doing that

-

WE HAVE A FUCKING SANITY BAR??? NOOOOOOOOOOO

-

Oh god the designated driver is a speed demon-

-

Yeah Kagamine Rin, speak ur truth

-

Vergilius is such an antiyapper. Get bro some noise cancelling headphones with the way he hates background dialogue

-

Charon: Damn. A missed chance to run someone over.

-

AYYYYYYY MILI SONGGG WRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

-

Oh damn it really is a bus and not a train- though to be fair it is like the outer look of a train just compressed into one car

[faramirsonofgondor]

I’ve seen a few posts about this already but it’s so wild to me that in S1 like right off the bat Dean is like “Sam, our dad is missing, he could be hurt or dead or something!!! We need to find him and save him. You’re my only hope.” and Sam is like “Dean we’re all barely holding onto our sanity by a thread. Dad is sending us on a wild goose chase and he’s not missing, he’s just a deadbeat.” and Dean is just like “yea but you don’t know him like I do. We need to do this for him.” and then they make up for like 2 days and go kill a monster and one or both of them gets injured and almost dies and then they do the exact same thing all over again while John is in the background munching on popcorn and sipping martinis while watching them breakdown and lose hope and almost die. And then when he finally shows up he hugs them and he’s like “welp I gotta go die now boys, good luck with figuring all this shit out!!” and then when they get upset he’s like “well yea I sent you out on a bunch of dangerous missions where you almost got killed and stuff and sure I may have ignored you when Dean was dying and I used him as bait but this time it’s personal cause this monster killed your mom so I can’t let you come with me lol.” and then he gets possessed by said monster and Dean is like “You’re not my dad!! My dad would NEVER tell me he’s proud of me!!” and then after the monster leaves his body they all get into a fucking car crash and when Dean is dying, again, he’s just like “hold up I have an idea” and hits up the monster that possessed him and killed his wife and almost killed all of them. And while Sam is screaming at him in the background to be their dad he’s all like “yo how about I give you my soul and the only we have that can defeat you in exchange for you saving Dean??” and the demon is all like “Ok bet.” And then Dean finally wakes up from his coma and his dad is like “Hey remember that time I forced you to parent Sam for your whole life and barely comforted you and let you comfort me instead. Well, that’s really my bad bro. Anyways, you either need to save your brother or kill him so bye.” And then he leaves and fucking dies. And then like 2 days later Sam is just like “yea maybe dad wasn’t that bad. I kind of miss him ngl.” and Dean just beats the shit out of the car that he cherishes.

And then somehow some of the writers still want to try to make John seem like a good father???

[kwonzoshi]

Here is my Day 3 contribution, not gonna lie, I struggled with this so.... I hope you guys like it. Prompt: 'Literature'.

@youngroyals-events

It was killing him. As dramatic as that sounds his heart felt like it was ripping in two. Simon didn’t want to talk to him, he didn’t want to talk to his parents, his brother was dead… and to top it all off, Simon went on a date with some idiot named Marcus. Freaking karaoke… he thought to himself, scoffing. It seemed that the only person desperate to talk to Wilhelm was August and that was the last person he wanted to deal with. On cue his phone vibrated in his pocket. He snapped it open to yet another message from his second cousin.

He rolled his eyes, ignoring him once again and immediately texting Felice.

He made his way into the classroom, apologizing to the teacher for being late. She explained that they were separating in groups of 4 and creating a presentation based on the book that was chosen. He glanced at the table and there was only one left, “Crisis” by Karin Boye. Wilhelm takes the book and immediately scans the room, trying to see who the other three in his group are. He freezes as he notices that Simon is holding the same small pink book. He clears his throat and looks around to find that Sara and Henry do as well. 

The teacher instructs the class to go to a study room to begin working on the project. He turns and quickly exits the room, making his way to the library, not sparing a glance back. As soon as he sits, he pulls out his phone:

He begins to bite his thumbnail as Simon and Henry walk into the room, sitting in two of the three empty chairs at the table. Simon sat across from him, making it difficult to look at anything but his beautiful face and those deep brown eyes. It took a moment for Wilhelm to notice, but Simon had his laptop already out and was furiously typing.

“Karin Boye,” Simon started reading off the screen, “was born in the year 1900. Crisis is an autobiographical novel about 20-year-old Malin Frost, who studies to become a teacher in the 1920s in Stockholm. She goes through a deep religious crisis, while at the same time she develops feelings for a fellow student, which awakens a need to find her own truth beyond all fixed ideals.” As Simon finished he looked up and into Wilhelm's eyes. Simon could have been speaking a foreign language for all Wilhelm knew. He didn’t absorb a single word that came out of that pretty mouth. All he could think of was how he wished he could kiss those pretty lips. He wanted so badly to kiss him. Just one more time.

“What?” Henry said, interrupting Wilhelm's thoughts, “So it’s about God or something? I only picked it because it was the shortest… I don’t know about you guys” he said, looking at Wilhelm.

“It was the only one she had left,” he responded, forcing himself to chuckle like that simple fact didn’t have his stomach tied into a million knots. 

“So, um” Simon started, ignoring their conversation, “how are we going to divide this up?”

“I’m not speaking during the presentation,” Wilhelm said a little too quickly, “You guys can do that.”

“Wasn’t Sara in our group too?” Henry asked, brows furrowing. 

“Yea," Simon answered, “she, uh, left her notebook in her room. She’ll be right here.”

“Yeah, okay,” Henry responded, rising to his feet as he ran his hands through his hair. “Well, in that case, I’m gonna go and get some coffee.” He quickly left, leaving Wilhelm and Simon briefly frozen in place.

We’re finally alone, Wilhelm thought to himself. There was something he needed to ask Simon, but he wasn’t even sure how to. He remembered Felice’s words from the day before, about being direct. He looked around, licking his lips nervously. He decided to just… say it.

He looked into Simon’s eyes again and almost chickened out, but he needed to do this. For his own sanity. “Why did you say you didn’t know Marcus?” he asked. His heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest, though he tried to hide it. 

“I said I did.” Simon said simply, eyes never leaving his.

“But not that you hang out,” Wilhelm rashly retorted. Simon’s eyes dropped for a moment before locking back into his. Wilhelm continued, “If there’s something going on between you, just tell me.” 

Simon sighed, “Okay… we’re hanging out.” Those three words hurt so much more than he expected. He thought he wanted to know... that he had to know. Now he wasn't so sure. Wilhelm’s heart was no longer racing, it was vibrating. He sighed as he shifted his gaze from Simon’s, nervously licking his lips again and glancing around the room.

“Okay,” he muttered, feeling defeated. So much for fate, he thought to himself as he grabbed his pen and began to take notes on god knows what. “That wasn’t so difficult,” Wilhelm continued, sparing Simon a quick glance and praying that his emotions would remain in check. They fell into a tense and uncomfortable silence and the only sound was that of Wilhelm's pen as he scribbled notes.

Simon took a long deep breath, “We’re not together,” he quietly revealed. 

Wilhelm’s head shot up, eyes searching Simon’s face. What did he just say?! He thought, his emotions doing a 180. At this point his heart was doing back flips in his chest and the knots in his stomach were twisting and turning.

“It’s really none of your business…” Simon continued, “but we’re not.” 

For a moment, everything became still, but before Wilhelm could say anything, Henry came back and loudly placed his mug on the table. He turned to face Henry and was too focused on answering his questions to notice that Simon was still staring at him, with nothing but adoration in his eyes. 

Later that evening:

Wilhelm sat at his desk trying, and failing miserably, to do his homework. He decided to update Felice on the situation. 

He spent the next few hours on the phone with Felice, talking about the brief, yet emotional, conversation he had with Simon, the book and how it paralleled real life, and his broken heart that was surely going to be the cause of his death.

[hellosweetart]

Remember that scenario where Francis found Nacha and Anastacha after they escaped and he got arrested in the Asylum ending? I already made up a scenario in mind for that.

So Francis came home from work (or murdering someone) and he brought his wife and daughter their favourite gifts. When he came home, they weren’t there to see him. Francis began to panic and looks for them everywhere since they’re supposed to be home by this hour. But their rooms were also empty and he begins to worry. That’s when he saw a letter that said:

“Dear Francis,

I’m sorry but I can’t stay with you anymore. I know I promised during our wedding vows but I just can’t do this anymore. You’re not the man I thought fell in love with. You were being really possessive over me and Ana. And I have a feeling that you might have done some…questionable things. I didn’t want to believe you would do that but you didn’t sound seem that mentally sound. I don’t want to risk Ana’s life in danger with a father like that. I’m sorry we have to leave you. I love you but it feels like me and Ana’s life would be in danger if we stayed any longer.

Heartbroken, Francis began to sob because the family he loves abandoned him. It’s one of the worst pains he felt since his abusive childhood.

“Why would she leave me…? I’ve given them everything… I love them… how could they be so cruel to me…?”

As Francis sobbed, that was when his sanity snapped. His devastation is now mingled with outrage and that’s when he let out an extremely loud ear piercing scream of agony and rage that it echoed throughout the apartment, disrupting everyone’s routine (the Sverchzt twins smudging their makeup, the housewives ruining the tea they made, Steven being interrupted during training, etc). Francis began having a total meltdown as he breaks everything in the apartment, including the gifts he wanted to give Nacha and Anastacha.

“Unforgivable… UNFORGIVABLEEEEEEEEE!!!!HOW COULD THEY LEAVE ME LIKE THIS?! WAS EVERYTHING I BUILT UP TO THIS POINT JUST A LIE?! I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY WOULD ABANDON ME LIKE THAT?! HOW DARE LEAVE ME?! HOW COULD THEY HURT ME LIKE THIS?! DON’T THEY REALISE I’M PROTECTING THEM?! I CAN’T SURVIVE WITHOUT THEM!!! I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT THEEEEEMMM!!!”

A lot of the neighbours gathered outside Francis’s apartment to hear what’s all the commotion about. That’s when Francis in his angry sobs got the idea to track down his wife and daughter. He bursts down the door looking like a rabid dog, ignoring the concerned and scared looks on his neighbours face. He grabs the closest neighbour by the collar demanding “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY WIFE AND DAUGHTER?! WHERE HAVE THEY RUN OFF TO?!”

They all shrugged or answered “I have no idea. What’s gotten into you?”

Francis tossed them aside and looked around the apartment, not before flinging Angus to the wall for getting in his way.

Angus: *whistling as he got back from his business trip* ah! Hi Francis! Nice day we’re- *gets flung to the wall*

Francis: OUT OF MY WAY!!!

In his delirious state, Francis spots Henry and grabs him by the collar too, “HENRY! YOU MUST’VE SEEN MY FAMILY EARLIER! TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE! TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!”

Being frightened for his life, Henry nervously told Francis he overheard where Nacha and Anastacha were heading off to. The rest of the neighbours came down to see what was happening.

Izaack: Mr Mosses! What’s going on here?

Francis: SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! YOU STAY OUT OF IT! ALL OF YOU! Haha… I’ve trusted them… I’ve trusted them…I should’ve known they’d leave… everyone always does… why… why must everyone leave me… haha… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

All the neighbours including Henry stared in shock at Francis’s crazed laughter as if he’s a psychotic madman who escaped the loony bin or a demon.

Alf: Mr Mosses! What on earth has gotten into you? What are you talking about?

Francis ignores everyone. He’s too busy finding his family.

Francis: *chuckles madly* I’ll find them… I’ll get them back… once I do… *chuckles* I’ll make sure they’ll never leave me again…! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

After Francis left, all the neighbours were left in a state of confusion and shock.

Steven: …what was that all about?

Raftellyn: I’ve never seen Mr Mosses so…mad before! He was always so calm!

Alf: he must’ve gone mad!

Roman: mad?! He’s completely off his rocker!

Everyone was worried about that whole ordeal so they called the police. Alf and Izaack initiated the call. Once everyone told the police what happened, they hired a private investigator to look into Francis, which would lead to him being arrested.

After news got out that Francis is a serial killer, it will be all over the news. The public will go berserk due to the next scare, Izaack will get a mountain of paperwork to do and for the rest of the neighbours, they’ll be terrified for weeks and will have a lot of things to talk about once they found out their milkman is indeed a serial killer

~ SK Francis anon 🔪

Daaaannng....this AU is wild...WILD, I'll tell ya. It would make sense why cops and police investigators are after him because he couldn't control his emotions. And his former neighbors are now alerted, now scared for their lives, much to Angus' disappointment. "That fucking fool...He let his cover blown up." The man muttered. It seems that he will not be able to be his partner in crime anymore. Mostly he is angry but there is a part of him that is sad. Now he wonders what will happen to the mother and daughter. He feels sorry for them now that the possessive, lovesick yet homicidal maniac is after them. He wish he can help but...who why does it matter? He has been in shady business for a long while now. Who is he to help?

[alexanderlightweight]

Prompt: If Alec got a magic tattoo for Magnus what would it be and what would it do?

this ended up being (because each alec would be different) this eldritch delight au because i couldn't pick and when I can't pick i ask @saeths and they mental roulette for me.

i hope you enjoy

-

Alec is just finishing up when his door opens and Mirai’s voice comes through with a “sir, your video call with the clave has been postponed for another two months. Apparently, the Inquisitor wasn’t expecting your latest accessory and the reason why the meeting ended was she accidentally overreacted and stabbed her tablet.”

Alec snorts because he can’t help it and Mirai makes an agreeing term that immediately turns into a, “by the angel. Commander, what in Raziel’s name are you doing?”

Alec pauses from where he’s about to tap the very last of the marks he needs to complete the design he’s painstakingly stabbed into his chest.

“A present for Magnus—” he explains as he carefully pours out another small dose of phoenix ash and then carefully adds five drops of Magnus’ blood and a thick, dark tar-like substance. It’s the corrupted essence of Magnus’ most heretical magic and Alec carefully grinds the ingredients together. He’s been at it for hours now, forgoing sleep to get his project done.

“Don’t touch it.” He orders, because Mirai looks ready to dash across the room in some misguided attempt at protecting him and is something she hasn’t done since her second month under Alec’s command.

“Sir, why?”

“I think he’ll like it.”

—

Mirai wants to stab herself so that she doesn’t have to deal with watching her commander tattoo himself with a vile concoction that has the hair on the back of her neck rising and her spine curdling. It’s with a deep wish for some kind of sanity that she retreats. Shadowhunter tea is more potent than mundane coffee, especially the kind grown in the ‘safe’ greenhouses. Mirai doesn’t normally indulge, it’s a terrible habit to find yourself half asleep and chugging down an entire pot of tea after a hunt, but she does now.

It takes four mugs before she feels like she’s not about to run back and try to unnecessarily save her Commander. Instead, Mirai plans on how to get herself and the rest of an Institute a break. It’s been two weeks of Alec’s latest accessory and Mirai is running out of excuses for why so many of their younger hunters are running into walls. Alec just doesn’t understand how terrifying and wrong the animals from Lake Lynn are. They aren’t corrupt, it’s almost worse than that and their commander wears one as if it’s a mundane hair clip.

So Mirai tries not to panic, cuts Inaya out of the process and goes straight to Andrew because at the moment, he’s Alec’s favorite.

“Stop breaking yourself when you break other people.” Mirai mutters, rolling her eyes and grabbing Andrew’s shirt. She pulls the backup, ignoring his startled, half-asleep squawk and iratze’s his back and then activates his speed runes and a few others before she slaps the shirt back over them for good measure. Andrew hisses and sends her a hateful glare that withers into panic when she smirks.

“Oh no, what is going on now. What do we need to do, do I need to hide? I’m off Commander duty for two days. Why does it feel like you activated half of my battle runes?”

“We are getting ourselves a vacation, by getting the Commander to take one.” Mirai says with a dark gleam to her voice that she doesn’t bother trying to hide.

“You hate vacations.” Andrew says, suspicious and eyes squinting up at her from where the light is undoubtedly blinding him. “You said it’s a crime to unleash Alec on the rest of the world and it’s our sacred duty to protect everyone else from him. And you want him to take another one? After the Bermuda Triangle Weekend?”

Mirai said every single word of that, and she doesn’t mind admitting she’s changed her mind.

“We’re not unleashing him onto the unsuspecting public or causing Alicante’s paranoia to build. We’re sending him to Bane, because Bane will contain him if only so that he doesn’t have to share him.”

Andrew seems to consider that for a minute and then nods, “okay and how are we getting Bane over here again? Last time it worked because the Commander was planning a surprise. Which, between the engagement and the snakes, Alec’s going to stop telling you things so you can’t ruin them for him.”

Mirai rolls her eyes because that would require their Commander to be upset that his plans are upstages, instead of simply delighted that he doesn’t have to spend as much time without seeing Bane.

“I’ll deal with that. In the meantime, we do have a reason. I just need you to clear the halls because Bane’s going to come in hot.”

Andrew pales and runs, socked feet slipping as he decides the protection of shoes aren’t worth the time it will take to pull them on. His speed rune

Mirai wonders when her Commander’s strange penchant for courting death influenced her so greatly and then she picks up her stele and sends a simple fire message.

Commander seems tense. Favoring chest and side - Mirai Lakecastle

—

Magnus doesn’t remember the time between getting the message and portaling to the Institute.

The moment he read the words that meant Alexander could possibly be injured in a way that Magnus didn’t create, Magnus felt his world crashing down around him.

How dare something exist that can harm his beloved that isn't Magnus.

It’s a tragedy Magnus is unwilling to suffer because Alexander deserves to be poisoned and bitten and coaxed to tremors by only Magnus’ hands and magic.

Not by whatever inferior existence has harmed his lovely boy.

The halls are empty, which Magnus only notices because there is a lack of charred flesh as he passes through them, and the rot and decay of bodies doesn’t hinder his way. Alexander is a dark presence, cold like the bottom of an icy mountain lake and Magnus’ fire demolishes the door parting them.

Alexander looks up with delighted surprise and Magnus has to deprive his darling of a welcoming kiss, too concerned.

Magic twines around Alexander, binding him tightly as Magnus strips him and lets his magic sear through Alexander’s body as it checks him over.

The thin, delicate lines that form a familiar cluster of flowers on Alexander’s skin cause Magnus’ knees to wobble and he lets himself crash down.  Alexander follows him and Magnus reaches out and pets over the tattoo freshly inked into his boy’s skin. The familiar bite of Magnus’ own magic stings his fingers as it greedily tries to protect Alexander from all outside touch.

“Mine—” Magnus reminds it, asserting his dominance over the portion of his magic now greedily attached to Alexander. The bouquet on Alexander’s chest is a perfect replica of the one he first brought Magnus, down to a particularly petulant lily.  It’s ravenous maw is open, as if it’s about to take a bite of Alexander’s heart and Magnus leans forward and presses his own s. p teeth to the delicate skin and nips it.

The magic thrums in pleased, ravenous delight and Alexander hums contentedly in Magnus’ arms, “you can call my heart back to you now.” Alexander tells him, like the permanent representation of his fervor wasn’t enough. Like he isn’t giving Magnus the lightning strings of his life with a kiss and a smile and Magnus has to create a portal and pull him through.

“Three days—” Magnus demands, “minimum! I won’t be able to spare you a minute sooner, my darling.”

Alexander laughs, delight in his voice and he presses close, and Magnus hungrily places one hand over the tattoo and holds his boy close with the other.

“I’ll send a message.”